Memories, Useless Delusions
by izzum
Summary: Third part to Dez, Vigilante of the Capital Wasteland. Rating may change.
1. My Name is Dezbe

My name is Dezbe. I am going to be twenty years old pretty soon, and I think that's great. I've been living at the Citadel my whole entire life. Well, at least that's what I'm told. My dad, Elder Lyons, doesn't really tell me much. I stopped asking a while ago, I felt I was getting on his nerves. My sister, Sara, she doesn't like me much. She's about ten years older than me, and we look nothing alike. I have this feeling we might have different moms, but I don't know.

You see, a while ago, months now, I got hit in the head really bad. At least, that's what Vargas tells me. I was doing something foolish, toying with guns when I have no idea how to shoot at all, and one ricocheted and hit me in the temple. I have the scar to prove that, too. That's all anyone tells me about it though, really. My frontal lobe or something was damaged, and I can't recall anything from then. I can't even remember any of my birthdays. It just makes my head hurt to try.

It bums me out, too. Because I don't know who I am. Sure, Vargas, Sara, John, and Gunny all tell me who I am, but really I don't know. I know my name, I know the day, the year, and that the outside world is really dangerous. Dad trains soldiers, Brotherhood of Steel Knights, to help fight evils in the Capital Wasteland. I've never been allowed outside the Citadel, dad thinks it'll be too horrible for me to see. He lets Sara go, though, and that sure pisses me off.

I try not to let dad see I'm upset about that, though. The last time I tried to let him let me go out with some of the Knights, he got really mad and yelled at me. He said he almost lost me once and he wasn't going to risk losing me again. I guess that means I'm the favorite daughter. Still, it must be really, really cool to see it all. I can see the monument if I climb high enough, but that's about it. I want to actually see the things called Super Mutants, and I want to shoot at the 'giant bugs', and I want to go and have wild adventures. Dad won't let me though, but one day I'll get out of here.

I also don't remember where I got all my scars. When I woke up, and they told me I was okay to go off in the Citadel on my own, the first thing I did was shower. When I took off the clothes dad gave me, all I saw was scars. There's this really big one that twists down my back and around my ribs. I have no idea where that came from. I also have muscle showing on my wrist, and on my collarbone. When I asked dad about all this, he said I was a very reckless child. I may not know much about medical things, but I do know pink scars are fresh scars. The one on my head, and the ones on my arm, and my back, are pink. They did not happen when I was little.

Either way, there's a lot of holes in my life that I just gave up on discovering. Dad gets really mad when I ask, and everyone else seems to play dumb. I figure I'm safe here though, I have good food and water at my dispense, and people are generally nice. Why would I want to leave it? Whenever Sara comes back it looks like she's seen hell and the Devil himself. Usually she's limping, and really hungry, too. It doesn't seem like something I'd like.

I like to spend my times in my room, reading a book, or just walking around and watching everyone train. I'm the only one who can sleep in and not train. Sometimes the Knights get mad, but they never get mad at me. They just say how it's not fair and eventually I'm going to have to 'grow up'. I wonder sometimes, why they get so mad, but when I try to remember it hurts. Like there's this big pain blocker in my head, preventing me from actually remembering.

Yet there's something I _do_ remember. I remembered it when I was reading a book about the planets and stars. I didn't tell anyone though, I don't know why. I feel like…like it's something personal. Like I have to keep it to myself because if anyone else knows they'll take it away, or something. You see I was reading about an old half-planet, Pluto. I guess it's not a planet now, says the book, but it's still called a 'dwarf planet' because it can't just be a rock. It has a moon, too. That's what I remembered. The moon's name. The second I read that Pluto had a moon half its size, the name jumped at me. Charon. Sure, it's probably nothing important, but I remembered it. I just pass it off as nothing. I probably read the book before, and just reminded myself. But still, I remembered something, and I felt so proud.

Right now though, I'm watching Gunny train new members how to use Power Armor. He won't teach me, though. Even though we're secretly dating, he won't show me how. He says since my dad didn't say it was okay, he wasn't going to risk it. Sometimes he lets me put on his helmet, and he laughs when I fall over. I laugh, too.

"Hey there."

He says, walking up to me and taking off his helmet. I smiled at him, and brush my hair behind my ear.

"Hi."

"Want to go down and get some food? Sara's taking out another crew, so we'll have the place to ourselves if you want to talk."

I nod, still smiling. I try to get any information out of Gunny that I can. It's really hard though, especially if I'm doing something he really likes when I ask. Like if I ask when he sees me in my underwear, it's like he's trying _not_ to tell me, rather than just fighting to urge to have sex with me. I won't let him have sex with me, though. Not until he tells dad and marries me.

"I have some questions I want to ask, if that's okay."

Gunny laughs and kisses my cheek quickly. We can't be seen doing anything, or else someone will tell dad, and then Gunny and I will be in trouble.

"You always have questions."

"You never answer them."

Sometimes, I feel really angry. I don't know why, but I do. I can't believe some of the things that come out of my mouth they're so mean, and I never mean them but still. It's just like I become this whole different person. Someone I don't know and don't like very much. It gets really scary, because sometimes I think I hear someone talking to me, but I'm alone in the room. I don't want to ask any of the doctors here, though. They might think I'm crazy.

"Yes I do, I answer them all the time."

Gunny walks down the B Ring with me, the halls are empty. Usually there's people, but when Sara heads out everyone goes with her. I really wish I could go, I do. Just once. Maybe soon I'll ask dad again, when he's in his room and all alone. If I just tell him how badly I want to see everything, maybe he'll understand. Gunny stops at a Nuka-Cola machine and takes two out. He hands me one, and I crack it open.

All the food has some radiation to it. Everyone around here is use to it, and takes Rad-X before or after they eat, but not me. I pretend to. Truth is, I don't feel like taking it. Whenever I eat or drink anything irradiated, I feel warm inside. Comfortably warm, and stronger, too. Why would you want to get rid of that? Of course, that's another thing I don't tell anybody.

"Yeah but you never give me the full answer."

"Dez, you've been awake how long now? You have got to just accept it, and try to be happy."

We walk into the cafeteria, and like I said, no one is here. I sit down and Gunny goes over to get some Sugar Bombs and milk. He knows it's my favorite.

"But I can't. It's my life, and I don't remember anything from it."

"Me telling you over and over again won't make you remember."

I sigh, and play with a spoon in front of me.

"I know but…I guess I just like hearing it."

"Well, what do you want to know tonight?"

It is night. Well, evening, really. I get excited. When Gunny falls asleep, I'm going to sneak up to the roof and look at the Capital Wasteland. It's the only time I can see it, and it's beautiful.

"Uhm…I don't know, actually."

It seems like everything I want to know has already been answered. Who was I, what was I like, how did it all happen, just seem like pointless questions. I already know, they've told me over and over again, and usually they won't tell me anything more. Gunny lets out a chuckle, bringing over the two bowls of cereal and setting one in front of me. He sits down in his Power Armor, and I can tell he's tired.

"Well, that's different. Usually you're bursting with questions."

I shrugged, and ate some of the food. I saw Gunny pop in a Rad-X, and tried not to roll my eyes. He's right, though. Usually I am bugging him or anyone else who'll listen with questions and whatnot. Lately, though, I haven't been feeling like myself. Sure, I have no idea who 'myself' is right now, but I've just been feeling a bit off. A big chunk of my life, actually my whole life, is missing. It's lost inside my mind and I can't bring it back up. I don't know who I really am, and it makes me angry. I don't know why, but it's that same anger I talked about before. It makes me someone…someone I don't want to get to know.

"Yeah, I guess."

"What's wrong, Dez? You really seem off."

I push the bowl away from me, sighing.

"I'm not really hungry…"

Gunny's eyes meet mine, and I try to smile, but I can't.

"You want to get out of here, don't you?"

My eyes light up, and I look at him. Leaning over the table, I grab his arm.

"Gunny, what's it like out there? Tell me, please?"

Gunny sighs. No one ever tells me what it looks like out there. Just what's dangerous and why I shouldn't leave. No one ever lets me ever glance outside the gates. I swear they make sure I'm inside before opening them.

"Well…it's big."

"Yeah…and?"

"And desolate. The city is in ruins, hell the whole world is, but it's a sight let me tell you. Aside from the ghouls and Super Mutants, out there isn't that bad. It's big, wide, and outside of the city it's open for miles and miles. There's a few towns settled here and there, but nothing big."

Wow, a whole entire place, a whole world, I've never seen before.

"Are there people?"

"Sure there's people. Hell there's tons of people, but you have to be careful of which ones you talk to. Some of them are mean sons of bitches, other's are beggars, and some are nice civilians."

It sounds wonderful. Sure, it's all blown up, but still. It sounds like I could meet so many people, learn so many things. I took my hand off of Gunny's arm and sighed.

"I'd give anything to see that…"

"Hey now, you best not be gettin' any ideas. Hell your father would kill me in an instant if he found out I told you all that."

I looked at him, my fingers running through my hair. I like the feel of that, I don't know why. I like feeling something tugging at my hair, it makes me feel comforted. Gunny doesn't do it, even though I've asked. I guess he thinks its gross or something. I don't know.

"Why does he want me here, anyways? I mean, what's the big deal if I leave or not?"

Gunny shifted. He suddenly tensed up and stared off into space for a minute, his eyes glazing over. He never did that before, but then again I never asked him that before.

"Well…you see…have you asked him?"

I nodded, playing with some of my hair.

"Right erm…well, it's because you're his youngest daughter. He doesn't…want anyone…anything to take you away from him."

He said 'daughter' like it was strained. Like he was keeping something secret. He also said 'anyone'. Who out there would take me away from here? I'd come back, I just want to see what it's like.

"But I'd come back. And who would take me from here, anyways? My family is here, I wouldn't abandon my family."

Gunny seemed hurt that I didn't mention him in that equation. To be honest, I don't really have very strong emotions for him. I mean, it's nice he likes me and thinks I'm pretty, but that's it. I'd kiss him, but I won't sleep with him. I just feel…like it isn't right. It makes me uncomfortable to be around him sometimes, like someone's watching me and yelling at me for it. It's probably because my dad would freak.

"I think you should talk to your father about it."

"Gunny he _won't_ talk to me about it. He just gets mad and storms off, it's annoying."

Gunny chuckled, leaning back in the chair.

"You're gonna give Old Man Lyons a heart attack, Dez."

Dezbe Lyons. For some reason it doesn't fit. It doesn't work. It makes me insides turn and quake, I don't like it.

"Yeah well…I just want to get out of here. I mean, if someone just taught me how to defend myself, I'm sure I'd be fine."

"It's not that simple, Dez."

I got angry. I felt it coming and I can't stop it. It just rises up inside, and makes me this person I'm totally not. Standing up, I glared at Gunny, angry.

"Fine. Whatever."

I turned and stormed off. He didn't chase me, Gunny never chases nobody, and I'm no exception. I stormed down the hall, pushing past the stupid Scribes in their stupid robes. Sometimes I feel so trapped here, like the walls are closing in on me. When all the running room you have is a quarter in the middle of the building, you tend to feel cooped up. Sure, I've never been outside these walls but I just _feel_ it. I just _feel_ all this energy and turmoil inside me that tells me to _go_, _run_, see it _all_. It's like a dictatorship here in the Citadel. My father and Rothchild command everything, every fucking goddamn thing, and it's insane.

Getting up to the roof isn't easy, but it seems it when you're angry. I climbed a set of stairs, and passed an open room full of sleeping Initiates. They sleep outside, to be a night watch almost. Grabbing a piece of rock, I pull myself up the wall with ease. Since the first time I tried this, I've surprised myself. It seems so easy, and it seems like lifting my own weight isn't a problem. My body just seems to know where to go and where to step, without me having to tell it anything.

I get to the top and look out. The Washington Monument is big, but I know it's far away. I can never see what's really out there. Outside of the old shadows of the city, there's nothing. It's just black, and at night you can't see very far out. In the day, I'm sure you can see for miles and miles, but I'm not allowed up here in the day. I'm supposed to stay inside, where no one but the Brotherhood can talk to me. It's like I'm some sort of important science project or something. Everyone wants to keep prying eyes away.

I look down at my left wrist. It's a reflex I've had since…well since I can remember really. At random times, I find myself looking down at it, for no reason. Nothings there, it's just an arm, but still I do it. I don't know why, maybe it's a nervous twitch. I look down to see nothing, sigh, and look away. Maybe I used to have a watch, and checked the time a lot. Either way, it gets annoying. No one asks about it, but it annoys me.

Looking out at the blackness, I feel a cool breeze against the back of my outfit. I feel sad sometimes, like now. At first I thought it was because I couldn't remember, but now I'm thinking it's something more. It's like…there's something bigger, something I'm missing. I don't know what it is, but it must have been important. It must have been…maybe a pet? Maybe I had a dog, or a Yao Guai, and something happened to it. It's the kind of miss that has something to do with something living. I don't feel alone in this world with all these other people around me so much, but I feel lonely.


	2. Cold Hearted Bastard

(Charon)

The date is June seventeenth, 2278. I stand in the foyer, the burning barrel bringing light to Underworld. Gob and Nova have given birth to a baby boy, they named him Zack. I am not sure why they would pick such a simple name, for such a unique child, but it is not my business. I am happy for them, for their happiness, for the child that could possibly be a cure.

"You sulking out here again?"

I turn, inhaling on the cigarette I have just recently lit. Gob closes the door to Underworld behind him. I have not told him I am leaving soon. Now may be a good time to.

"Perhaps."

I tell him, turning away. Gob has tried more than once to force me to open up, but I have not. I have agreed with his accusations of me being a heartless bastard, and went on with my life.

"You really need to stop this sulking, Charon. How long has it been? Few weeks, months?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Right well it's time you got off your ass and did something."

I exhale smoke into the air. It dances with the fire before vanishing forever.

"I am leaving soon."

I have taken Gob by surprise, I can see it in his face. He gives me a goofy smirk, and crosses his arms.

"Where to?"

"I do not know."

"You gonna come back to Underworld?"

"I do not think so, no."

Gob, like most other people, is a full head shorter than me. He stands beside me, staring into the fire. I did not expect company tonight.

"You going…to ya know…get her?"

"No."

I toss my cigarette into the fire. Gob is treading on dangerous waters and he knows it.

"Aw Charon, c'mon, stop being such a blubbering bastard. Go get her."

"Gob, it would be in your best interest to stop talking."

I grow angry with him. The fire burns a bit brighter, and I block my mind from wandering in dangerous areas.

"I'm just saying."

"I think I will take my leave now. Congratulations once again over the birth of Zack. He will bring many people in Underworld hope. Goodbye, Gob, I do not feel that we will see one another again."

He does not say anything in reply. I adjust my shotgun as I walk away from him. There is nothing inside Underworld I need or require for this journey, simply my shotgun, and I have that. I do not know where I am going, or where I will end up, but I cannot stand to be in this place any longer.

"You're a rotten prick, you know that?"

Gob calls to me. I do not reply or turn back, rather I raise my hand, and give him the finger. We have never seen eye-to-eye, but one thing Gob and I can agree on is that I am a rotten bastard. He just has no idea how rotten I am, way deep down inside.

It is night, the cool air brushes my bare flesh and muscle. It has been months since I came back out into the world. I have been in Underworld, keeping a low profile from the Brotherhood of Steel. Neither one of us are fond of the other, and we have been trying to steer clear of joining paths. The world seems different now than it was before. It seems older, more ruined, more sad and pathetic. I have changed significantly in these short months, weeks, whatever you may call it. I feel new, reborn, but I am cruel as well. I am no longer the same person, as I was before.

I am leaving it all behind now, but I am unsure as to where I am going. There is a world for me to see and explore, and I am no longer bound by the constraints of my contract. It is a freedom I have not yet felt or had the chance to abuse. I feel I need to now. After everything that has happened, I feel I can no longer stand this disgusting world with all of its disgusting people.


	3. You Were Not

"What were you _doing_ up there, Dezbe?"

I crossed my arms and sighed. Stupid Initiates ratted me out.

"I was just _looking_, dad. There's no harm in that."

"There is! You could have been shot!"

I tossed my arms down, rolling my eyes. Instead of taking me to the laboratory, dad took me to his room to yell at me. Which is pretty unusual, he likes his displays of discipline to be public. He likes having other people hear him yell at me.

"By _who_? I was fine, dad. You're overreacting."

"No Dezbe I am _not_ 'overreacting'! I am reacting perfectly normal! If you just knew of the dangers out there…you'd understand."

I stomped my foot and crossed my arms again. I hate old people.

"Maybe I'd understand if you just let me go _out_. If you just…_told_ me what to expect I would be fine!"

"You cannot go outside, and that is _final_!"

"Dad!"

He held up his hand, showing that the argument was over and done with. I stared at him, appalled.

"You let Sara go all the time!"

"Sara is trained to do so. You are not. This argument is over, I have work to finish."

He left me there, in the middle of his room, to go off and work. What the hell did he need to do at this hour anyways? The door slammed behind him, and I kicked the locked footlocker at the base of his bed.

"Damnit!"

I yelled, to no one, really. I'm just so _mad_. It's like there's this whole place just waiting for me, calling me, beckoning me out and I can't go. I don't know why I want to leave so bad, but it just feels like I'm not supposed to be here. Like there's something bigger and has so much more to offer than in here. I wish he would understand, just let me go and run free and wild. I'd come back, I swear, if he'd just let me go.

Sitting on his bed, I crossed my legs and sighed. After a while, it gets boring here. I've read all the books they have, I've played all the games, talked to all the people, and seen all the rooms. It's old, it's boring, and I feel so restless. I don't even know why, I just do. It seems there's a lot of 'I don't know' in my life. I can't remember anything, therefore I don't know anything. I have no idea who I am, other than what people tell me, and I have no memories to go to when I get sad for no reason. I have nothing to look back on and smile about.

With nothing to look back on and remember, you don't feel like a full person. You feel incomplete. The doctors say that my memory might come back one day, but they don't think it's probable. I'd need a handful of luck and a lot of hope for that to ever happen. Plus, nothing in here is recognizable. I don't feel like I know it, like I did with that stupid word. I don't feel that way with anything else. It's like I just _knew_. Even thought it's because I read the book before, the fact was I remembered something.

Glancing down, I saw my dad's footlocker was open a crack. That's strange, he usually leaves it locked. I stared at it, feeling kind of curious. He did piss me off, he did storm off and put me second after work. What the hell, right? Reaching down I flipped up the top, and saw an old sack sitting in it. It was lumpy, that means there's stuff in there. I stared at it for a while, I don't know why, but I did. I…feel like I know this.

Getting off the bed, I positioned myself in front of the footlocker. I don't know how much time I'll have, before he comes back, so I have to be quick. I found where the opening is, and glanced in. Nothing. Just a bunch of old guns, a weird cylinder object, and some other useless junk. Oh well, what did I really expect to find, anyways, gold? I was about to close the lid, when I saw something fall from the sack. It hit the bottom of the footlocker with a soft 'clink' and rested.

"What is that thing?"

Reaching down, I picked it up. It's small, there's two of them, and they look silver. It's aluminum, I think, and they're on a chain. It reminds me of the holotags that the Brotherhood people wear. Only it's not a holotag.

"I'll be right there, Rothchild."

I hear my dad coming, and shove the object in my pocket and slam the locker closed. I don't want him knowing I went in there, he'd yell and take whatever it is I found. I quickly stand up and dash over to sit on his bed, showing that I'm still angry with him. The door opens a crack, and I feel the strange metal pieces digging into my thighs through my pocket.

"Dezbe, what are you still doing in here?"

I crossed my arms, focusing on being angry and not the things in my pocket

"Being angry and upset with you."

"Oh honey, why now?"

"You won't let me _leave_…"

I glare at him, and I see Gunny walk by the room. He has something in his hand, and I lose my train of thought, trying to see what it is. It looks like a gun, but not one a Brotherhood would use. It's…longer, smaller. I lean over, trying to see out of the crack in the door. My dad steps in front of me, blocking my view.

"Dezbe, you know you can't, and you know why you can't."

My attention turns back to him and I stand up from the bed. I don't feel like fighting it anymore. I just don't.

"Yeah, okay, whatever."

I get up to leave, and my dad doesn't stop me. I shove my hands in my pockets, hoping to push down on the aluminum things so dad doesn't see them and start flipping shit. He's get so mad if he found out I went through his stuff, he'd be even madder that I took something, too. So it's better to just not tell him. Stepping in the hall, I close my dad's room's door behind me. Looking both ways, I spot Gunny to my left, at the end of the hall.

"Hey! Hey what's that?"

I jog over to him, curious. He turns around and looks at me, hiding the gun from my sigh behind him.

"What?"

He asks when I stop in front of him.

"That, what's that? I want to see…"

I try to stand on tip-toes and look around him, but he puts his hand on my collarbone and pushes me back lightly.

"No, Dez. It's late, why don't you go to your room and I'll see you in the morning."

The fact that he doesn't want to show me makes me want to know what it is more. I frown at him, crossing my arms.

"Now we _both_ know I'm not going to let this go. So just show me."

Gunny sighs, and I win. It's really that easy, sometimes. Most of the Knights I talk to get sick of my constant pestering and give up half the time. I like when that happens because well, I get my way. It doesn't happen all the time, or even that often, but it's golden when it does.

"Alright, fine."

Gunny looks around right quick, and when he sees no one he takes the gun from behind his back. I stare at it, kind of amazed. It's sleek, small, and worn out. There's a long crack in the side of it, but other than that it looks awesome. For some reason, I have this strange fascination with the most random of objects. I just can't seem to keep my eyes away from them. Reaching out, I run my hand over the gunmetal. It's cold, but it feels…it feels…different. I'm not sure what I feel when my fingers touch the metal, but I've never felt it before. Its like adrenaline is pushing and forcing it's way into my body, into my veins, and coming out of every pore. I don't even know why, but that's just how it feels. Like someone is going to jump on me, but if they did, I'd be ready.

The metal glistens in the dim over light in the hallway. I glance up at Gunny, my eyes wide.

"Can I have it?"

I ask, hoping he'd let me.

"Oh no, no, no, no…you're dad would _kill_ me if I gave this to you."

"Then what are you gonna do with it?"

Gunny shrugged, holding it up in the air.

"Well, I'm probably going to have to throw it away. It's not the kind of gun we use here."

I look at him, my eyes wide.

"It's broken, so it won't work, and that means you can give it to me."

Gunny sighs, and traced the long crack in it. For some reason, I really want this gun. I don't know why, I don't even know what it's called, but fuck I _want it_. I feel so attached to it, like it's my unborn son or some crap. It just feels…_right_ in my hands. It feels like it _should_ be there. I try to force myself to cry, tears coming up in my eyes. They won't fall, though. For some reason, even if I am really sad, I can't cry. I just can't, it doesn't happen. Maybe I don't drink enough water for the tears to come out, though.

"Alright, alright. Take it but _don't tell anyone_."

I think that's the biggest smile I've ever given anyone. I snatched up the gun, holding it close.

"Go on, get to your room!"

Gunny snapped at me, and I nodded. Taking off down the hall, I bolted right to my room. I slammed my bedroom door behind me, and even locked it. I never locked it. The gun was cradled in my hand, the metal cool against my warm skin. Damn. It looks so…so _familiar_. Maybe I've seen it before, and remember it. Maybe Gunny used to let me play with it, you know, before the accident. They told me I got a bullet to the brain because I was being reckless with guns, but while I'm staring at the one in my hands, I wonder how that's possible.

It feels like I just know. My hands find places on the gun, find where to go, how to hold it, without a second thought. Hell it almost feels like second nature to me. I find the trigger, my arm wrapping against the butt, the gun pressed against the inside of my shoulder.

"Bang."

I say, squeezing the trigger. The gun clicks, telling me there's no ammo inside the magazine. That's fine, I didn't want to shoot at my wall, anyways. Last thing I need is a repeat of what made me lose my memory. But you know what's strange…is the fact that I know this gun. That I know how to hold it, how to aim it, how much pressure to put on the trigger, and how to move with the pretend recoil. I've never shot a gun in my life, and yet…here I am, _knowing_. It feels like a piece of me…came back. With this gun in my hand, I feel like I'm somebody, like I'm not just 'Dez'. It's hard to explain.

Without thinking twice, I take the gun from my shoulder and pop out the clip. How did I know how to do that? I don't know, I have no idea. But the clip came out, and bounced to the ground. I picked it up and toyed with it, the curve intriguing me. I finger it, letting my hands feel the smooth, engraved surface. I swear to god I know this, I swear I do. Without even having to look at it, my body just _knows_ what to do. My hands know where to go, they know what to click and what to avoid. It's almost like…like I've shot it before, used it. But no, I've never shot a gun in my life.

Popping the clip back in, I place the gun under my bed. I don't want dad to find it, and take it from me. Maybe one day I'll figure out how to fix the crack in it, and I'll be able to teach myself how to use it. It'll be the first step I take in getting out of here, that's for sure. If I can just _learn_ I know I'll be fine out there, I _know_ I will be. Don't ask me how I know, I just do. I just have this gut feeling way deep down inside that I'll be okay. Dad doesn't believe me and refuses to listen to me, but one day I'll know I'll convince him. Eventually, he's going to have to let me go, or I'm going to just leave.

Laying back on my bed, my head hits the pillow and I relax my body. Staring up at the ceiling, I try to imagine what it's like, out there, out of here. I try to imagine how I'd live, how the people would treat me, and what I'd see. I smile, imagining the people and the places. I'm sure there's lots of Brahmin. I read about Brahmin on the terminal's in dad's office. They're two-headed grass-eaters and from what I read, really gentle. I think I'd have a pet Brahmin, one to follow me around everywhere and make noises.

I bet it gets lonely and quiet out there, so I'd need something to keep me company and make noises at me. I've read about other things, and heard, too. Like there's Boatflies, and Giant Radscorpions, and even stray robots that attack you on sight. I'm sure it's not that bad, but it's probably pretty dangerous. I wouldn't want to run into a robot, hell I don't know the first thing about robots. The Mr. Handy we have around here is kind of, well, _useless_. Its more like…a pain in the ass than any help. Sighing, I stretched out my body. I never feel tired. I don't know why, I never know anything, but still. I wish I knew all the things I wondered. I wish I knew who I was, what I used to do, and what I used to act like. I just can't seem to enjoy anything right now, because I can't remember if I liked it or not in the first place.

While I was busy staring at the ceiling, I felt something digging into my thigh. Then I remembered. The weird pieces of metal I found in dad's room. Hell I still don't know why I took them, curious probably. Reaching into my pocket, I wrapped my fingers around the chain and pulled them out. Holding them over me in the air, I watched as the light bounced off of them. They're shiny and look kind of old. I feel like I like them, though. Kind of like when you see something sickeningly cute, but you find yourself liking it anyways. Sort of.

They dangled off the small ball chain, swaying with the slight movement in my hand. I stared at them, wondering what they were. They're like holotags, but they're not. They're just pieces of metal. Looking closer, I saw engraving on them. Well, more like embossing, where the words are pressed up rather than etched in. Bringing it close to my face, I traced my thumb over the words and numbers. There's a long number, ten digits, and I have no idea what it means. Looking up at the top of it, I see a name.

"Charon…"

I sit up so fast that I would have knocked my head on the ceiling if it was lower. Crossing my legs under me, I hold the metals in the light and peer down at them. Is Charon a person? Who is she? Why does my dad have her…necklace? Maybe it's my mom! Maybe this is her name and dad kept it for safekeeping. I wrap my hands around the pieces of metal, feeling excited.

No. No, something tells me I'm wrong. If I was right I'd _know_ it. Charon is not my mother. But then, who is she? I open my hands and stare down at them, curious, wishing they would answer my questions for me. Of course, they didn't. It's a stupid necklace, incapable of answering questions. It would make my life easier, though. I stared at them, my eyes running over the name. So…I have heard the name before. Charon…but who is she? What kind of person would they be? Did I know them, or am I just getting myself excited because I remember the name from the book? It could be a coincidence, and my mind is playing tricks on me. I don't know that for sure, but hey, every option can happen.

Sighing, I put the necklace with the gun under my bed. I hear people walking by my room, talking softly, but they don't knock on my door. When I'm in here, it's like I don't even exist. No one visits me, not even Gunny. It's like I'm the forbidden child under the stairs, the dirty little secret no one wants to recognize. I don't feel welcome here, in my own home. Footsteps echo down the hall, shadows pass under my door, and I sigh. No one likes me here, no one pays any attention to me unless it's the doctors checking in on my brain and body, or my dad fighting with me. Hell even my own goddamned sister doesn't even go out of her way to talk to me. She won't even make small talk if we're sitting at the same table, eating.

I don't feel like I'm a member of my own family, let alone a member of the Brotherhood of Steel. Hell I'm not a member of that, I don't have any training, but everyone treats me like…some diseased person. They're nicer to the Initiates. Maybe that's because I'm the only one here who _doesn't_ have to train. Maybe it's because I get to sleep in and spend my days daydreaming. I bet they wished they could do that. But they don't want to be me. I'd rather be out there, like they are, fighting and shooting the big guns they carry and seeing the world. Instead, I'm cooped up here, with nothing and no one to talk to.

I hear more footsteps, and I look at my door, hopeful someone will knock and I can talk to someone. I hope I have to get up and unlock the door, but I know I won't have to. I know no one will come see me tonight. Laying on my bed, I reach under and pull the necklace out. I want to wear it, but I don't. If dad sees it, he's going to know I went through his stuff. For some reason, I like this necklace a lot. I don't want him to take it from me. It feels like I know this necklace, like it'll make me less lonely. I know that sounds crazy and stupid, but it's kind of like a comfort object. I guess because I don't know it, and it doesn't know me, we can find a common ground in that. I'm just looking for someone to talk to, really.

I hold it in the air, laying on my side. I find when I am alone, is when I get like this. I don't like being alone. It either makes me feel angry, or makes me feel sad. There's no 'in between', its one or the other. The metal pieces twirl slightly, the light bouncing off of them. My name is Dez, and I have no idea who I am. I have no idea what is going to happen, and I don't like it very much. Staring at the necklace, it makes me warm inside. Like it brings safety and comfort, as if I'm not alone with it. I know that's crazy, and I'm probably a shitload of that, but it's just how I feel. I feel like…there's something more to me. Besides an entire lifetime I feel like there's huge things I'm not being told. I feel like there's…something else.

I hear a knock on my door, and I jump a mile in the air.

"Dez? Dez it's Gunny open up."

I shove the necklace into my pocket, and get up off my bed.

"Gunny? What is it?"

"Let me in I want to talk to you."

Usually if Gunny comes to my room at night he's looking for a quick lay. Something I won't give him. But I'm starved for company right now, and I could use the conversation. Walking over to the door, I unlock and open it. He has his Power Armor on still, and I wonder if he ever took it off today.

Gunny pushes past me and sits on my bed. I watch as my mattress sinks under his weight, he looks distressed, concerned about something. Closing my door, I lock it and walk over to him. Sitting down I look at him. Something is wrong, I can feel it in the air.

"Gunny? What is it?"

He looks at me, fearful, his eyes filled with tears and fright. I take his hand in mine and squeeze it. I don't think I've ever seen him so upset before, and I'm thinking it must be serious.

"I'm so sorry, Dez…I'm so sorry…"

Sorry? For what?

"Gunny, what are you sorry for? What happened?"

He looks at me, tears down his cheeks. I've never seen a man cry before. I've never seen Knight cry before.

"I…I can't tell you…I can't."

Well then this whole conversation is pointless. I stare at him, unsure of what I'm supposed to say. His eyes meet mine, and I feel suddenly very scared.

"You…you have to leave. Listen, there's no time…but you have to."

Leave? Me? Alone? What?

"Gunny what are you talking about? You're not making any sense…"

He stands up, pulling away from me.

"Go in your father's room, and get this…burlap sack. It'll have everything in it. I'll distract him, I don't know where he keeps the sack, though, somewhere in his room. Meet me in the courtyard after that but don't let anyone see you."

"Gunny, wait. What are you _talking_ about? What's going on?"

He shakes his head at me, motioning towards the door.

"There's _no time_, Dez. Hurry, please. Just…_trust me_."

But that's just the thing, I _don't_ trust him. I don't really trust anyone in here, don't ask me why, but I don't. Gunny seems like he's serious, but I don't know why. I have no idea if this is a trick, if he's being a dick, or if this is actually a serious matter. It just seems like all the time the Brotherhood of Steel are against me, plotting if not thinking about it. I can't trust them, I don't trust them, and I have no idea why.

"Gunny…what? What the hell is going on?"

He rubbed his eyes, frustrated. Half of me wanted to believe him while the other half wanted to laugh in his face. Way deep down inside, though, I felt I needed to trust him. I felt…that I had to.

"Dez, please, I'm _begging _you. Go, do what I said and just meet me in the courtyard, _please_."

He pleaded with me through his eyes. I don't know what's going on, but he's acting like this is pretty serious.

"Fine."

A wave of relief washed over Gunny. He sped out of my room, leaving the door wide open for the world to see. I stood for a minute, trying to figure out what could be wrong. Nothing came to mind. Nothing I could possibly imagine would make Gunny _this_ flustered. Maybe that was it, though. Maybe something had happened, something so random and out of control, and that's why Gunny freaked. I suddenly felt very scared inside.

Leaving my room, I made sure I had everything I would need. For…what? I don't know, but I didn't take anything. The old gun wouldn't be of use to me, and Gunny didn't say to grab it. He simply said to grab the sack in my father's room. I know what sack he's talking out. He said he'd distract dad, too, so I'd be let off the hook there. Dad wouldn't see me sneaking in, he wouldn't catch me. At least, I hoped not.

As I walked to my father's room, I noticed everyone looking at me differently. I noticed they glared, not in the usual way, but different, like they were actually mad. They sneered, and went back to working. They were just Scribes, but still it irked me. When I got to my father's room, there was no one around. Everyone seemed to…vanish. They weren't in the halls, and the doors were all closed tight. I felt like the walls were closing in on me, and I felt my heart racing.

That happens sometimes, my heart will race for no reason. It's like it's trying to tell me something, but I can never figure out what. It just pounds and pulses like I'm going to die of a heart attack. I ignore it, usually, and just do some deep breathing. But now, as I pushed open my father's door, I felt I needed my heart to pulse. I needed the extra boost it gave me, the extra rush of adrenaline. I felt like a whole new person, and different person, someone who was strong and brave.

I closed the door, locking it behind me. I didn't want my father coming in, in case Gunny had failed in distracting him. Grabbing the lid of the footlocker, I tried to lift it.

"Shit!"

It's locked. That…oh that mean man, he locked it. I felt my body shake, I'm angry. I'm the kind of angry where I don't know who I am and I don't like. But right now, it was perfect. It fueled me. It drove me. I got up and scanned his room, looking for something to break the lock.

"Bobby pins…"

What? Where did that come from? I said it aloud as if I _knew_ what I was looking for. I spied two bobby pins on his nightstand, and I grinned like a stupid maniac. Grabbing them in my hands, I felt the same sensation as I had with the gun. My body just _knew_. Mechanically, like I wasn't even myself, I walked over to the footlocker. I began picking the lock, turning it, shoving the bobby pin inside and turning it all around until I heard a faint 'click'. I stopped, frozen. The lock dropped open, and slid to the floor.

"Wow…"

I can't tell you how I did that, or how I knew how to do it. I just know I did it, and I know it worked. The lock laid on the floor, as if it was mocking me.

"I can't remember…"

I said, not to anyone but just to say. Does anyone else see this? Can anyone else relate to this? I have…I just picked a lock when I have no idea how. I toyed with a gun as if I was an experienced shooter, when I've never shot a gun in my life. This is…new to me. I could feel the metal necklace pressing itself against my thigh as I lifted the lid of the locker. I wanted to sift through that pack, figure out just what exactly what was in it, and what I could really use. But I didn't. I just grabbed it and tossed it over my back, and it fit. It felt…old. Something I've felt like I've done so many times before.

Shaking my head, I pushed it all to the back of my mind. Right now there's no time for wonderings. I have to get to the courtyard and meet Gunny. Unlocking my father's door, I looked to my left and right. Good. The coast is clear. I don't know why I'm so paranoid right now, but I just feel I _have_ to be. Like people are after me, like they're going to get me, like they want to get me. I don't like this feeling, this feeling of being watched and sought after.

Somehow, I don't know how, I made it to the courtyard with no problem. I was able to get out of the B Ring, get out of there without being seen. When I got outside, it was still dark, still night. Well duh, what did I expect? Sun? No, not now. Looking around, I tried to find signs of Gunny.

"Dez!"

Someone hissed from behind me, and I jumped a mile. Looking, I saw it was Gunny, and he looked worse than he did a few minutes ago. I stared at him in the darkness, stared at his Power Armor.

"Come on, we have to _go_."

He grabbed my arm and started dragging me across the courtyard. He tugged me over, leading me to the gate. I stared at him, trying not to lose my footing.

"What? We're _leaving_?"

Gunny looked at me, and I felt petrified.

"It's it what you wanted? Now you have your chance. Come _on_."

He tugged me harder, practically throwing me ahead of him. I'm leaving? Getting out of the Citadel? Now? I'm not prepared for this, I don't even know how to shoot a gun! I don't know anything! How am I supposed to survive? I looked at Gunny, my eyes wide with fear.

"I…I don't know…I…"

"I'll tell you more in a minute but for not _go_."

I nodded, and quickened my pace to his. We got to the gate, and Gunny opened it just enough for us to slide through. When I took my first step outside, it was like I…like I was at home. For the first time, I felt I belonged somewhere. I felt that I'd been sent here just to leave this place. The moment was short-lived though, because Gunny grabbed hold of my arm and took off in a full-on sprint, with me barely keeping up behind him. It felt like he was going to tear off my arm, pull it right out of my socket. But I wasn't concentrating on that, no. I was trying to look around, take in all the dark sights. I wanted to see it all, fill my mind up with…with everything.

I've never been outside before. I've only admired from a distant rooftop, dreaming of the day where I'd finally get to leave. Now that day is here, and now I don't know what to do. Gunny started to slow down, catching his breath. I felt him ease up on my arm, but he didn't let it go. He held onto it while he caught himself, looking around. I was looking around too, but not because I was scared. Because I felt…like I was at home. Like I was meant to be here, like I _had_ to be here. I took advantage of the stop, looking around, taking it all in at once. Everything was so…here, so real, so…unbelievable.

I mean…it's just, I've never been outside of the Citadel. I've never seen this kind of environment. I've never really seen how much is gone, how much is still here. Imagine the treasures I could find, imagine the adventures. I felt happiness rise up like a big, swelling bubble right in my chest. I felt like I could fly if I jumped high enough. I'm free now. Free.

"I'll take you to…Mason District South…then you're on your own."

Gunny said out of breath. I guess the Power Armor made it hard for him to run. I wouldn't know, I've never worn it.

"What's going on?"

I tried to play scared, but to be honest I'm too happy. I'm so happy to be out here, to be free and…and just not be trapped like a bird in the Citadel.

"It's…your father…Dez I'm sorry…"

"You're not making much sense."

Gunny stood up and grabbed my arm. He led me to an old bench and sat down. Something really is wrong, he's being serious.

"You weren't born in the Citadel."

The words hit me like a pile of concrete and bricks were just dropped on my head. I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest. Everything else around me seemed to vanish, and the only thing I focus was Gunny's sad and guilty face.

"What?"

I say sounding stupid. What else could I say? That I knew? Of course I didn't know but…I've always had this feeling that I just didn't belong. Like I was in another world, a different place, than anyone else there. Gunny sighed, rubbing his head with his hands.

"You…you weren't born in the Citadel. Lyons is not your father, Sara is not your sister."

I blinked, taking it in, one word at a time. I felt a cool breeze, but it didn't faze me. It just whipped around me like it was nothing, and it is nothing.

"…Who…who am I, Gunny? Really…who is Dez?"

He looked at me, tears in his eyes.

"I…you have to find that out on your own. Your name is Dez, but…that's it."

He stood up and motioned for me to follow him. I am Dez. I was not born in the Citadel, and dad is not my dad. Sara is not my sister. Everyone had lied to me, everyone. No one in there wanted to tell me the truth. Who was I then? If no one in the self-righteous Brotherhood wanted to tell me who I really was, then I guess I must have been…something awful. My hand fingered the scar on my temple, the star-shaped scar that turns flesh color if you press on it. It's right above my right eye, I can feel it. I felt tears in my eyes, but I knew they wouldn't fall out.

"You lied to me then, everyone lied to me."

I said, feeling lost and empty. Suddenly, being free, being on my own, didn't seem so magical.

"You…you'll find out why soon enough. Here, go down there and _don't_ come back to the Citadel, in fact, avoid the city at all costs."

"But…I don't…I don't have a map, I don't know…I…"

Gunny grabbed my arms and gave me a passionate kiss. I didn't feel the emotions he was trying to display, I didn't feel the same, but I accepted. Someone, someone out here cared enough about my well-being to help me. But he didn't care enough to clue me in, to tell me who I am, to abandon me like this with no knowledge of anything.

"Everything…everything inside that burlap sack is yours. You…you'll find out everything soon enough, but you have to go, now, before they catch you."

I didn't argue this time. I straightened my back, looked into his eyes, and walked down the stairs to…to where? Tunnels, obviously. I opened the gate, and went inside. I was flooded by darkness, emptiness, noises echoed from far away and I didn't like the sound of them.

"What…am I going to do?"

I said to no one, my voice echoing off in the distance. I guess the first thing I have to do…is find some light. It's nearly pitch black down here, and it smells like death and rotting flesh. I have to try hard as I can to hold down my food, I've never smelt anything like this. Something far away hissed, and it put the fear right in me. Blinking away tears, I felt along the wall. There's a beam of light shining through a crack, but I can't find the door.

The pack on my back is heavy, but I walk with it easily. My muscles seem to know what to do, and I realize my balance is pretty good. I almost tripped a few times, but I caught myself, even with the added weight. I want to cry, just stop and cry but I know I can't. I know the tears won't come and I know it's useless and pointless. I have to try and be strong now, even if I have no idea who I am, or what's going on, I have to be strong. I have to find a safe place.

My hands felt the familiar steel of a door, and I smiled. Pressing against it, the door opened to an office, brightly lit. There was no other way in or out.

"Good, safe."

I let my body sink to the floor, sliding the pack off of my shoulders. Gunny said everything in here is mine. What does that mean? He didn't tell me, I think he expects me to know. How can I know if I don't remember? Opening the sack, I dumped all of the contents on the floor in front of me, and gasped. Two shotguns, one small one long, fell in front of me. I picked the longer one up, feeling the cool metal barrel. My hands know where to know, they snap open the gun, my eyes check for ammo. It's loaded. I set it down, and pick up the smaller one. My fingers trace the handle, the old wood, the old steel. It feels natural in my hand. I take it and aim it, but I don't squeeze the trigger. Something in me tells me it's loaded, and that means its dangerous.

I set it down beside the other shotgun. I have a weapon, I am not completely alone. Something inside of me knows that when the time comes, I will know what to do. I don't know if I should trust it or not, but I have no other choice. Sifting through the pile, I find an old Lunchbox, and open it. Various medical supplies are stuffed inside. I know them from the doctor's office at the Citadel. Med-X, Stimpacks, Rad-X, stuff like that. I'm so confused right now, it's not even funny to me, and I try to laugh at everything.

I don't remember any of this stuff. It feels like I do, though. But I can't _remember_. It's so angering. I want to remember, I want to know what this all means, but I _can't_ I just _can't_. I close the Lunchbox and push it aside. I don't want to look at the rest of this shit anymore, but I have to. Maybe something will…will jolt or jog my memory and I'll be able to remember _something_. The rest of the stuff seemed so simple, so meaningless. There's a…strange looking contraption. On the side it says 'Fat Boy', and on the side two Mini Nukes are taped to it. I only know they're Mini Nukes because I saw them inside the armory at the Citadel. I know they're _very _dangerous, and I set the giant Fat Boy down gently. I don't want it going off, that would ensure my death.

The last thing in the midst of the junk is the cylinder contraption. I picked it up, expecting it to be heavy, but its surprisingly lightweight. There's a small screen on it, and three buttons on the bottom. Something in my head clicks, and like a machine, I slip it onto my arm. I don't know why, but my brain just told me to. It did I swear. The second the large hole touched my skin, it whirred, buzzed, and clicked. It grabbed my arm, and I screamed.

"Get off! Get off!"

I tried to pry it off, but to no avail. It shrunk down to my arm size, fitting perfectly to me. I stared at it, expecting my entire arm to be blown off. But then, my heart slowed, and I felt calm. A figure appeared on the screen, and my name came on the bottom. Dezbe. That's me. I looked at the screen, holding it up to my face. It's dark green, with bright green words and letters on the screen. It shows…my health. It tells me I'm healthy, my limbs are safe, and I'm not experiencing any radiation poisoning. I begin to tinker with it, pressing different buttons. I come to a section that shows 'notes'. At least, it says 'notes'. Clicking on the button, it brings me to an entire list of messages, notes, and…pictures. Will this tell me who I am? Will this show me what I've done? Well, there's only one way to find out.


	4. Memories

(Charon)

West. I am heading West. Away from the city, away from Underworld, and away from the Brotherhood of Steel. I can no longer remain here, in the Capital Wasteland. It is pathetic, pitiful, and not deserving of any mercy by me. I have killed anything that has shown resistance in my pathway, things that would not normally attack me. I cannot forgive this place for what it has done, for the actions the people here have done.

Dez…the aching kills me, almost crippling me. I work through it, moving past it, forcing myself forward. The Brotherhood…I will kill any of them, all of them, if I see them out here. I will take no mercy on their lives, and God save my soul. I am a man acting out of rage and anger, feeling the sins of the world on my shoulders. I do not ask the question 'What have I become' because I know what I have become. A monster. A fucking monster.

She set the turrets off. No, rather _I_ set the turrets off. On that fateful day that led me here, it was I who set off the defense systems. In my anger, my rage, towards those who had trained me, I destroyed all I could. I had forgotten that the turrets, the system, reacted to such actions. It all happened so fast, it all seems like a dream to me. Or rather, a nightmare. She laid under me, bleeding from the arms, scared, gun broken and defenseless. It was my sole duty to protect her, and I failed. I failed.

I saw the bullet coming, I had told her to keep her head down. She did not listen. She did not fucking listen. It hit her, above the eye, a direct hit. I do not remember what happened shortly after that, I was blinded by rage. One second I am watching the only thing I have ever loved die in front of my very eyes, and the next the Brotherhood of Steel are prying her bleeding body from my grips. Tearing her from me, holding me back, aiming their guns.

For days, they kept me prisoner. I would not speak. I would not tell them what it was we were searching for. It was not because of any personal reason, it was because I hated them. I hated them, and I still hate them now. They beat me, for days, beat me and brought me back to life by radiation. When Rothchild managed to realize I was not going to speak, he broke a deal with me. I leave with my life, and never return. I leave, and do not seek Dez ever. He promised her safety, ensured she was alive, well, and they would not let her off the grounds of the Citadel. Foolishly, I believed him. All that mattered was she was safe, out of harms way, and alive.

I left. I left and returned to Underworld, broken inside. I told no one. I told no one of what happened, of the horror I saw that night, that day, those days I spent. The Brotherhood are not kind people, they are no different than the Enclave. With each passing day, each rising sun and moon, my hatred and anger towards them grew. I changed inside. I became someone new, someone different. I must survive.

West is in their opposite direction. Rothchild made it _very_ clear that if I came anywhere near the Citadel, they would shoot to kill. I stayed away, in small hope Dez would somehow return to me, knowing I would be in Underworld. She did not, and each day that passed, I began to lose hope. She is dead, I presume. Gob is the only other person besides the Brotherhood and I who know of her whereabouts. He wants me to fetch her, but I did not listen.

I am a free man now. I am free to do as I want, as I please. It is my wish to leave this world, leave it all behind and travel as far as the New California Republic, the furthest West I can manage. Dez is no longer alive, she is no longer breathing, I have no reason to continue living here. The pain was unbearable at first, but now it is nothing more than a slight prick against my insides. I have numbed it, masking it with anger. I soothe it with violence. I try to push it all away, but I remember everything. I will walk West, until I can no longer walk, until my body breaks under my own weight. Until I myself fall victim to whatever enemy the desert can flush upon me. There is no reason to live this life, if I have nothing to live it for.


	5. Harsh Realization

I know who he is. I know who 'Charon' is. The metal necklace is in my right hand, as I compare them to the picture of the man on my Pip-Boy. A handsome soldier stands, staring back at me, his eyes burning through me. Who was he, though? Is he still alive? How did he get on this…Pip-Boy? I sighed, staring at the screen. Yes, the metal necklace in my hand was definitely the same one as the one in the picture labeled 'Charon'. But it still didn't answer any questions. All this stupid wrist computer did was verify my name, and give me pictures. Scrolling down, I found something that said 'Note from Dad'. My real dad? I don't know…maybe. I clicked on it, and a voice started talking. My father? He sounded sad, rushed. He told me…he's sorry for leaving but he has to. He talked about someone called the 'Overseer' and something called a 'vault'. Is that where I was born? A vault? I've heard of them, from the terminals in the Citadel. Each of them were used for crazy science experiments on the people. So…which one did I come crawling out of? More importantly, where's my dad? If he left the vault, than that means he's out here somewhere.

If I can find him, maybe he'd give me answers. He could tell me who I am, what I've done, and all of that. I'd finally find the place I belonged, my own home. Not the Citadel, with their lies and deceit. It would be my home, and this time I'd know it because…because of this Pip-Boy. It had the note, it…it has everything about me, but nothing about who I am. Its depressing, but I can't focus on that right now.

Tampering with it again, I found a map. Both local and world.

"Finally…"

I said, shoving everything back in the sack. Picking up the two guns, I fastened one to my waist and slung the other over my back. Standing in the middle of the room, I used the local map to navigate where I needed to go in the tunnels. When I get out of here, away from the Citadel, I'll use the world map to figure out where I need to go. Yes. That might work.

Leaving the room, I found I had more questions than I initially thought. Finding this Pip-Boy only made me realize that whoever I was, I was smart. I had things useful and needed for survival, and organized well. I guess I knew what I was doing, when I did it. I can't remember, though. The things look familiar, and they feel familiar, but it's still not a memory. Was Charon my brother? From looking at the picture in my Pip-Boy, we kind of look the same. Why else would I have his necklace? Family does that, right? Is he with dad right now, looking for me? Possibly.

I bet that's why his name was so familiar to me. He and I were probably close, brother and sister, and we were probably doing something to help dad. There's nothing about my mother, save for another note. It's just my dad saying how he doesn't know how he can do this without her. Maybe they split up? I don't know. I wonder if he knows what happened to me, I wonder if he knows I'm alive. By the looks of Charon, he seems like one not to be messed with. He looks strong, tough, and all that fun stuff. I wonder if he'll be happy to see me, too.

I wander the tunnels aimlessly, looking down at my Pip-Boy every once in a while. Then it hits me. That's why I looked down at my arm before. I must have had this thing on my arm for…for god knows how long. Me looking down on it became a habit. Yes. That's it! I can remember! I can remember! I stopped walking, and started laughing, smiling.

"I remember something!"

I yelled, jumping around in the air. I remember looking down at my Pip-Boy a lot. It's not a big memory, hell probably not a memory at all but it's _something_. I remember the sun hitting me, a shadow over my body, and I looked down at my Pip-Boy. I can't remember past that but at least I knew. I knew. A wide smile fixated itself on my face as I walked the tunnels, following the map on my Pip-Boy. Maybe in due time, I'd remember everything else. I'd remember who I was, where my dad is, where Charon is, and then I'd go home. My real home, home…

The excitement is so much, that my body shakes and shivers run up and down my spine. I almost fall from tripping over a piece of wood, but I catch myself. I can't wait to get home, to see dad and tell him how much I've missed him. He's going to be so happy. How long have I been at the Citadel? A few months, yes. It's been a long time. I bet he thinks I'm dead. Won't that be a shocker to him, when I find him? He'll be all happy and I'll be happy and then he can remember with me.

Closing my eyes as I walk, I try to see things. I try to remember. Something in my head comes up…it's old. I'm looking up at someone, I must be young. They say 'happy birthday' and everyone is around me, people. They're wearing…blue jumpsuits. Someone comes over and hands me the Pip-Boy, saying I'll have to start work in the morning. I don't know who they are, but it's a memory. It's a real memory. There's kids and streamers and a Mr. Handy robot. The memory stops after someone tries to take something from me, a boy, a kid.

Opening my eyes, I peer into the darkness ahead. There's stairs leading up to a platform, and my map tells me that's where I need to be. I'm so excited over remembering something, I blindly run up the stairs. I feel like a kid, so excited and happy. I'm free, I can remember some things, one thing, but something. I jump to the top of the platform.

"And the crowd goes wild!"

I pretend people are cheering for me, urging me forward. I turn around in a circle, my arms raised high in the air, my eyes closed. I hear myself laugh, it echoes throughout the tunnel. It makes me laugh harder. I'm free, and I can remember. It just tells me that soon enough, I might remember my life. I might know who I am, who I was, and all the things that ever brought me joy. I didn't get to rejoice and celebrate for long, though. A loud hiss echoed out, and I stopped. Opening my eyes, I looked around in the darkness. Something was in here. Something bad. I heard it scurrying, but going where? Where is it? Grabbing the small shotgun, I held it in my hands, my heart racing.

I can do this. I feel it. I know what I'm doing. I listened to the noise, and turned. Shooting blindly into the dark, the recoil of the gun knocked me to the ground. I hadn't expected it to be that strong. Something else fell, too. A thud, a soft thud. Using my Pip-Boy screen as a pathetic light, I scanned the ground, crawling on my hands and feet. Then I saw it. It's gaping mouth, its soulless eyes.

"Shit!"

I yelled, scurrying back from it. It…it's a zombie…a monster. Its dead, I killed it but…holy shit I killed something. I killed something. My heart sped up, and I felt the taste of stomach acid in the back of my throat. I'm going to puke, I know it. I have to get out of here. Getting up, I ran as fast as I could towards the exit. I passed two other creatures like that, they hissed and started chasing me. They threw their arms at me, mouths open wide and drooling.

"Leave me alone!"

I don't want to shoot them, they'll die, and I'll fall. I can't shoot two at once, and I'd have to be really lucky to hit both of them with one shot. I'm not taking that risk. I'd rather run, run for my life. Up ahead is a gate, I can see it, I swear. The monsters are gaining on me fast, though, and I have to push myself to run faster. It's like my lungs are going to explode, like they're going to burst right out of me, screaming and crying. It hurts, but I keep running.

I get to the gate and try to push it open. I look down and realize it's locked. Looking back, the monsters stop running, as if they know I'm trapped.

"Help! Help! Someone help!"

I scream at the top of my lungs, fear in my voice. I don't care who I alert out there, I just want to alert _someone_. The monsters hiss at me, in the darkness I can't see their faces, but they're still just as scary.

"Someone please help me!"

I shake the gate, screaming. It doesn't seem like anyone is going to come, so the only thing left for me to do is fight. I grab the small shotgun and aim it into the dark. Closing my eyes, I let my arms, my hands, my mind and body do the work. I aim, squeezing the trigger. I don't hear the bullet hit anything. Two sharp hisses from the darkness tells me I missed. Shit.

"Please, help me someone…"

I say, quietly, scared. I fire another shot, and a sharp hiss tells me I hit something, but I didn't kill it. I let out a whimper of fear, my heart sinking while it pounds inside. I shoot again, but the gun clicks. I have no more bullets. Opening my eyes, I hear them closer, one seems to be dragging itself. I try to push myself through the gate, my back making the metal groan. I look around, trying to figure out if there's another means of escape. There isn't. And even if there was, I wouldn't be able to see it in the dark. I'm trapped. I'm going to die, by the hands of these creatures and no one will ever know. I didn't even make it one day outside of the Citadel, no wonder they kept me there. All of a sudden, being trapped there didn't seem like a bad thing.

I close my eyes, the hissing of them growing louder with each dragging step. Then I hear something. Something outside. Footsteps? Opening my eyes I turn around, my hands gripping the chain.

"Help! Help me please!"

I scream, desperate for someone, _anyone_ to save my ass. I can't see anything, but I can hear them.

"Please! Down here! Help me!"

I feel tears in my eyes, welling up, strong and painful. I shake the gate, hearing the creatures right behind me. I look out into the darkness, and I hear them. I hear them. Whoever is out there is coming down here. Thank you, thank you. A figure comes into view, but I can't see who they are. They look about my height, and I can tell they're nervous.

"Stand back."

Boy. He tells me, and I move to the left. He takes two shots and the hissing stops. The monsters drop dead at my feet, they were so close. I look through the gate at my savior, I can't see him in the dark.

"Please, please let me out…"

I beg, I don't want to be down here anymore. The boy hesitates, but then takes the lock in his hand.

"I uh…I'm gonna need some caps…for uh this…"

"I don't have any money."

"Then give me what you have."

"Oh…okay."

I have no other choice. I figure I can give him the Lunchbox that has my medical supplies, and he'll leave me alone. I don't want to give up any of the Mini Nukes or anything like that because I might need it. He might kill me with it. I hear a click, and the boy takes the lock off of the chain gate. He opens it wide, and I step out. The moon shines down from the sky, and I let my eyes adjust.

"Here…here it's all I have."

I crouch down and give him the Lunchbox from my pack. He opens it up, smiling.

"This is good."

I peer up at him, pouting and scared. Is he going to kill me? He looks down at me, his hair looks silver in the moonlight.

"Aw here. I can't take this, you look like you need it more than me."

He hands me back the Lunchbox and I nod. Placing it back in my pack, I walk up the stairs, not sure where I'm going.

"Hey, hey wait up."

The boy calls after me, and I stop walking. He joins me on the other set of stairs, and we walk up them together. Once we get to the top ground, I can see better. The moon is like a second sun. I can feel the radiation coming from somewhere. Checking my Pip-Boy map, I notice I'm at the Flooded Metro.

"Hey what's your name?"

I look up from my Pip-Boy, still terrified, my heart still racing.

"It's…its Dezbe…but I guess people call me Dez…"

"Mine's Mel. What you doin' all the way out here?"

"I…I don't know."

He laughs at this, crossing his arms.

"What kind of Wastelander gets cornered by feral ghouls? They're like, target practice."

I bite my lip and look at my feet. I really wish he wouldn't laugh at me.

"I…I was in an accident…I lost my memory…I've been living at the Citadel and just escaped. I…don't know how…to shoot. Is that what they were, ghouls?"

I look up at Mel, he's handsome. He's dirty too, but I guess everyone out here would be.

"Whoa, I didn't ask for a life story but hey, whatever chick. Yeah, those things were ghouls."

"I didn't…I didn't know they were…"

"Zombies? Oh yeah. Almost all of them are. Any ghouls that _can_ talk are still zombies, but they stay in Underworld."

Underworld. A giant skull flashed in my mind, a white skull, and a burning barrel. It felt like I was in a time warp. It was all blurry, moving so fast, I was walking in a dimly lit room, a burning barrel of fire was to my left. I look up and see someone, I feel happy. I feel happy to see them.

"Hey, hey you alright?"

Blinking, the image vanishes. A memory? Another one? I want to rejoice and analyze it, but I don't. I just look at Mel, scared and shaken.

"Underworld…?"

I hear myself say. Mel laughs at this, and I feel stupid.

"Yeah, a ghoul city down in the Mall. You've never heard of it? Oh right, you said you lost your memory…right…"

I feel stupid next to him. I feel incompetent and stupid. I run my fingers through my hair and play with my feet. I don't say anything, because I don't know what to say. I'm scared, I almost died. I have no idea what I'm doing.

"Look girl, where you going?"

Looking up at Mel, I bite my lip again.

"I…I don't know…I have to find my dad and…and I was going to look in the nearest vault for any clues."

Pulling up my Pip-Boy map, I scan over the areas, looking for vaults. The closest one is Vault 101. Okay. There. I set a 'map marker' and something appears on my compass. It's a pointer, telling me which direction to walk in. This thing is turning out to be really helpful.

"Well since you're dumb as shit, why don't I take you to the nearest vault? By then you might have a better hold on what to expect out here."

I smile, a big wide smile. I was always told people out here are mean, and not to be trusted. But Mel is nice. He's offering to help me and he doesn't even know me. I nod my head.

"Thank you, thank you."

He saved my life _and_ offered to escort me to Vault 101. What a nice boy I have found out here.

"Right well, let's get walking. You can help clue me in on what you know about yourself. Maybe we've bumped into each other in the past."

I smile. He begins to walk and I walk beside him. Mel lights a cigarette, and I eye it, curious.

"Don't tell me you don't know what this is…"

"No I know…it smells good, though. May I try?"

He shrugs and hands it to me. I hold it between my fingers, and inhale the smoke. I don't cough. The smoke swirls down into my lungs, but I don't cough. I blow it out in a stream in front of me. I thought…people cough when they smoke. I don't want to hand it back to Mel, so I take another puff out of it, testing myself.

"You smoke before?"

I look at him, and he smiles at me. He has a nice, kind smile.

"Ah right. I forgot you don't remember. Well you probably did. So you're name's Dez, huh? Do you remember anything at all?"

Mel takes out a pack of cigarettes and lights another one for himself. I flick the ashes from mine like I know how already. I must have smoked.

"No…I have clues…but…not very good ones. I know I come from a vault, I think. There's a note from my dad on this thing, this Pip-Boy, and he mentions it. There's a picture of someone I think is my brother, too."

Mel blows out smoke and looks at me. I hear something in the distance, and freeze up. Mel lets out a small laugh, and pats me on the back.

"Relax, it's just the Mirelurks. They won't bother us so long as we don't bother their nests."

"Mirelurks?"

He points up ahead, and I see something walking. It has a hard shell and claws. What kind of creatures are out here? They're all scary, and they're all mean.

"So, Dez, what is your bother's name?"

I reach down in my pocket and pull out the metal necklace. I hold it in front of me, the metal shining in the moonlight.

"Charon. At least, I _think_ he's my brother. I don't know. I found these at the Citadel, then I found pictures of him on my Pip-Boy. We kind of look alike, but not really."

Looking at Mel, I see his eyes glaze over. He's thinking about something. I can tell when people think, because they always get a certain look to them. Putting the necklace around my neck, I tuck the metal pieces under my shirt. My cigarette burns out, and I throw it away, following Mel.

"Do you know him?"

Mel looks at me, nervous about something.

"Have you ever heard of Three Dog?"

I nod my head.

"He's a radio DJ right?"

Mel nods, smoking.

"Right. Just wondering. So uh…Charon, eh? You haven't seen him at all since you lost your memory?"

I frown, shaking my head.

"The only people I've seen are the ones at the Citadel and you. I don't even know how I really lost my memory. I just know I have a mean scar over my eye."

"Yeah I saw that. You got lucky, most people don't survive a headshot."

I smirked, rubbing the scar above my eye. It's dark out here, but not as dark as I expected. The moon serves as a giant night light, making everything silver and glittery. It's quite beautiful, if you get past the initial fear of what's lurking out here. As scared as I am, I'm still grateful I got out of there. I'm thankful I'm free, and I can do as I please with no one breathing down the back of the neck.

"Did the people at the Citadel tell you how you lost your memory?"

I shook my head, narrowing my eyes.

"No, I mean, they said I was playing with guns. They told me I didn't know how to shoot a gun and that's what happened. But I can't trust that. After all the lies they told me…I don't know what to believe. That's why I have to find Charon. He can tell me things, I can trust him."

"Do you have any idea where he might be?"

Again, I shook my head. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I felt the metal of the necklace against my chest, between my breast. They hit my bone, bouncing off, bouncing back.

"Not the slightest. It's a big world, I don't know if I'll ever find him, or my real father."

I hope, though. Without hope, you don't have anything. I have nothing as it is, but I have to hope. I have to hope I'll find something in the vaults that will give me a clue, a hint, something I can trust. Even if I don't find anything, and I end up dying out here, I have to hope. I just have to.

"So…you don't even know where to start looking?"

"Nope. The vault is the only thing I can think of to be a starting point. It's a shot in the dark, but it's something. Maybe I can ask around, too. I can meet people and see if they've ever met me."

"But what if you can't trust them?"

"I have no choice. I have to trust them."

Mel fell silent, and I have nothing I need to say. Looking around, I saw the vastness of the desert, the warm night air leaking through my clothes. It's damn scary out here, but it's damn beautiful, too. I might not ever find what I'm looking for, and I might not remember any more than I do now, but I have to try. I can't just give up, it's my life, my memories. Someone out here has got to know me, heard of me, something anything. They've just got to. I can't figure how I'd be able to live under everyone's radar. I wasn't born in the Citadel, therefore I had to have had made some friends, or enemies, out here. It's the only thing I can think of, really.

I don't know anything about this Charon. I suspect we may be related, but I don't really know. But why else would I have his necklace? I can't think of any other reason, unless we were lovers. Don't lovers give one another keepsakes? I don't know.

"Do you have any idea where I should start?"

I asked Mel, looking at him. He had thrown away his cigarette, and holstered his gun at his side. Glancing at me, Mel sighed.

"I…yes. I have."

He had? He knows me?

"How? I mean, we've met? You said we didn't!"

I got excited, my heart began pumping. Mel stopped walking in the middle of the desert, and shook his head at me.

"We never met officially, but I have seen you around, and heard about you."

"Tell me, please I have to know."

He sighed, loud and obviously hesitant.

"You…from what I've heard…were cruel. I had heard you went around killing, not just bad guys but anyone who got in your way. You were…looking for your father then, too. Three Dog would report on you, and soon you went from this horrible person to someone he admired. That's all I know, though. He doesn't report on you anymore, probably because it's been a few months."

I killed people? Me? I can't even kill a ghoul, how could I manage to kill a person? I stared at Mel, flabbergasted.

"You…you're lying. I can't even _shoot_ a gun, how could I kill people?"

Mel shrugged, backing away from me.

"Look I don't know. I've never met you. If you want to find out anything my suggestion would be to go to Three Dog."

"Where's he?"

"Galaxy News Radio building, in the city."

"Will you take me there?"

Mel held up his hands, shaking his head.

"No, hell no. You just verified to me you're that crazy bitch who killed everyone. I'm outta here."

"But…"

I couldn't form a sentence before Mel took off into the darkness. I stood alone, in the middle of the desert, with no one.

"What am I supposed to do?"

I asked myself aloud. Galaxy News Radio? Is that even a real place? Pulling up my Pip-Boy map, I scanned all the locations until I found it. GNR Plaza. Three Dog is there, Mel said he'd know more about me. But…it's so far. It's…I can't travel all that way tonight. I have to do it in the daytime. I have to…I should go to the vault first. Yes. Then travel to the plaza and find Three Dog.

Closing out my map, I let my arm rest at my side and I looked around. The silence scared me. The way everything just seemed to fall so dead, so quiet, it's not usual. Well, maybe for out here it is, but not for me. I know what direction I have to walk in, but other than that I'm in a dark place with a wet match. I'm alone, with no one, not even myself to talk to. How can someone keep themselves company, when they don't even know who they are?

I kept walking North, looking around at every small twig snapping or any rough noise. I felt my stomach growl with hunger, and sleepiness begin to take over, but I can't stop. If I rest and sleep out here, I'll surely die. I'm too heavy of a sleeper to let myself take that chance. I can't give up. I can't. A part of me wants to cry, but I can't cry. There's…there's no tears that would fall. It would be a waste of energy, a waste of water. I have no food, nothing to serve as water, and no means of finding it. Unless I came upon some nice person who would share with me, which I highly doubt.

My feet ache beneath me. The terrain is rocky, hilly, uneven. It takes a lot of energy for someone like me to walk. I can't believe what Mel said. He said I was a bad person, that I killed people. But…it sounds so crazy it just might be true. He also said Three Dog started to like me, so that must mean I was changing, turning over a new leaf. Does everyone hate me? Do they fear me like Mel did? I don't know. I just don't know. Not knowing angers me, it frustrates me and makes me want to cry out, but I can't. I have to hold it inside, because I don't want to die out here. I don't want to face whatever creatures are here alone. If I could just…find Charon, find my father, find _someone_ I used to know and like, then I'd be okay. I know I will be, if I can just find them.


	6. Mean People, New Friend

It's locked. The door to the place of my answers is locked. I'm standing in front of it, staring at the big gear-like door that says 101, and it's locked. I pout at it, my hands at my sides. It took me a whole two days to get here. Two days. It seemed so much closer on my map, and if I wasn't getting chased by people I would have gotten here sooner, but I was, and I got lost.

They chased me with guns and they were half-naked. They screamed at me, called me names, and got me good with a bullet. My arm just recently stopped bleeding. I want to cry right now, cry and hit my head against any hard surface. But I can't, and I won't. I don't know who those people were, but they hated me. I don't like using the gun on my back because I don't know how. I tried when they first came at me, and got the wind knocked out of me thanks to the recoil.

Sighing, I turned away from the vault door. It's the only place that hinted to my past. The only place I had any knowledge of going to. Now I can't get inside. It won't open. Now what? Where do I go from here? I have no idea. I could go to GNR, but…I can't survive the city. I can hardly survive the desert, let alone face Super Mutants in the city. Opening the door that leads back to the outside world, I let the sun warm me. I let it kiss my cheeks and engulf me. It's the closest thing to compassion I've gotten since I left the Citadel.

I sit on the edge of the cliff, something called 'Scenic Lookout'. At least, that's what I think the sign says, I didn't look at it too well. I can see everything from here, though. The city, the buildings, there's another city to my right, and my Pip-Boy says it's called Megaton. I sigh. I have no idea what to do, or where I'm going. I could go to Megaton and ask around, I guess, but something in me has a bad feeling about that. I figure it's something, and it's better than nothing. Getting up, I look down at the steep fall, and I smirk.

It'd be easy if I just stepped off. I'd never have to look for myself again. But I can't do that. I can't die without a name, a cause, without anyone knowing. Turning around I head down the slope, slipping and falling face-first into a puddle of irradiated water.

"Great, just great."

I said to no one, picking myself out of the puddle. Sure, I don't mind a little wetness every now and again, but I'm not in the mood. My day isn't going great, and this makes it worse. Walking around in wet clothes…it just makes everything heavier. Wiping my front down, I looked at my arm, where the people had shot me. The blood was gone. The deep gash was gone, and a small pink scar stood in its place.

"How…"

I muttered, poking the new scar. I looked at the water, and thought about how radiation always made me feel, how I never got sick from it, how…crap. I'm…I'm not normal. Everyone else in the world gets really sick after being exposed to a lot of radiation. Me? I get warm and happy. I get _better_. Running my fingers through my hair, I sighed loudly. This is just yet another piece to my jigsaw puzzle. I don't know if I should ask a doctor or not. I might be deemed a freak, or worse, a ghoul.

I shudder just thinking about them. Remembering their eyes and that deathly hiss. I don't want to be like them. I know how they got like that. Am I going to end up that way? If radiation doesn't hurt me…will it make me like them? Will my skin peel off and I'll lose my mind? I guess if it happened, it wouldn't matter anyways. No one likes me, Mel kind of showed me that, and the people who chased me proved it. If I became like them, I'd forget who I was anyways. Not that I know now, but still.

Shaking my head, I started walking towards Megaton. The sheer size of it made my stomach churn. What's inside there? People? Or is it like that place Mel told me about, Underworld? I don't know. I just hope the people are friendly. That they tell me what's going on, and fill me in. I hope someone in there knows me. Glancing back at the cliff, I can't see the door that leads to Vault 101. It doesn't matter anymore, but it still makes me sad. I thought…I thought I would be safe. I thought I'd find my dad and he'd tell me everything. Or at least Charon.

I looked at the giant gate that led inside the city. It's massive. Biggest thing I'd seen so far. When I pushed it, I found it surprisingly light, easy to open. Pulleys, probably. Stepping inside, I closed the gate, and looked around. Wow. It's a city. There's buildings made of steel, stacked on other buildings, and people walking around. I saw a giant bomb in the middle of it, and somehow recognized it. I closed my eyes, trying to remember. I couldn't see much, just my hands. They worked with the wires on the bomb, and then it stopped. I'm not happy I remember something. I can't trust my own mind, I think I make half of this stuff up to comfort me.

"Well, well. Look who's back in town."

I opened my eyes. In front of me stood a man, tall, with a cowboy hat on and a gun on his back. He eyed me up and down, not happy. I wanted to recoil, but the gate prevented that.

"Do-do I know you?"

I stammered. His presence made me nervous. He gave me a confused look, and a half-smile.

"Girl you been messin' with that Jet again?"

Jet? The drug?

"What?"

Does this person know me? Did I do Jet?

"You look pale girl, what brings you back here. Thought I'd never see the likes of you again."

He knows me. And he hates me.

"I-I'm sorry I-I don't…"

Sighing, I pointed to the scar on my head.

"…remember."

This world is crazy. This world…it isn't even a world at all. Just a place with people. The man eyed the scar above my eye, thinking. He unfolded his arms, and stepped a bit closer to me.

"Wait, you're tellin' me you don't remember a goddamn thing?"

I nodded my head, looking down at my feet.

"I-I wanted to get inside the vault, but it wasn't open. I-I came h-here because it-it was close-and-and…"

I wiped my nose with my sleeve. Looking up at the man, I saw his face change to compassion. He gave me a tissue, and a sad smile.

"Come with me, kid, I'll help you out."

"Th-thank y-you…"

He shook his head and began walking. I wiped my nose with the tissue and followed him, keeping my head down. Everyone who saw me looked through me, as if I wasn't even a person. They looked at me like I was no better than the crap on the bottoms of their shoes. What had I done to make them so angry?

The man led me to an old house, made of metal like everything else. He opened the door for me, and I stepped in.

"Name's Lucas Simms."

He said as he walked by me. I watched him open a fridge, and pull out two Nuka-Colas. He motioned for me to sit down at the table, and I did. I felt the old wood, running it over with my hands. There was an empty chair to my left, and I looked at it. I'd been here before. I can feel it. I've been to this city, in this house. Lucas handed me the soda, and I took it, in a daze.

"I sat there before, didn't I?"

Lucas took a seat to my right, and eyed the empty chair next to me.

"Yup. You and that fellow."

I held the soda tightly. Lucas took a sip of his and leaned in towards me.

"I-I…I'm sorry I…"

"Hey, no apologies. I understand dangerous things happen out there, and stranger things have happened. You know how you…got that scar?"

I shook my head, looking at my hands holding the bottle. Pulling out the tissue, I used it on my nose.

"No…no I…don't remember anything. I-did I make you mad? Why-why is everyone here…angry with me?"

Lucas looked at me, and I looked at him. He narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs.

"Well kid, where do you want me to start?"

He told me what he knew. I came out of the vault pale and naïve as a brand-new baby. My father had left before me, and I was looking for him. As he spoke, I tried to remember, but I couldn't. I gave up, and just listened to what he had to say. Apparently, I gave up looking for my dad for a while, and started doing my own thing. I used to own a house here, and I'd come and go as I pleased. He said I wasn't very nice. He said I'd killed innocent people. The more he spoke…the more I wanted to cry. The more I hated myself. His words didn't match who I thought I was, and I didn't want to believe him. Something inside of me told me he wasn't lying, and some of the things he claimed I did felt real. As if my body remembered, but my mind didn't.

Sighing, I wiped my face with the tissue. Lucas had told me all he knew. Said I left Megaton and went to live in the desert. I came back for someone named Gob, and left with him, some girl named Nova, and another man named Jericho. Lucas said that was the last time he saw me. I looked up at him, scared, hating myself.

"I-I really hurt people?"

Lucas nodded, eyeing his empty soda bottle.

"That you did, kid. You and that ghoul fellow."

Ghoul? No, no I _hate_ ghouls. I shook my head at him, denying something for the first time since he started talking.

"No, no I don't like ghouls…"

To my utter shock, Lucas _laughed_. Like this was some big joke or something.

"Kid, you may not like 'em now but before…before you were very much a ghoul-lover."

Ghoul-lover? Does that…no. No.

"I-I…"

Standing up, I handed Lucas the soda back. I hadn't even opened it.

"I-I-I have to-to go…"

This is too much. Too much. I ran out of his house and out of Megaton. He didn't chase me. No one chases me. Except those people. I ran until my lungs couldn't take it anymore, until I couldn't even see Megaton in the distance. Falling to my knees, I clutched my chest. It hurts. It hurts.

I killed people. Innocent people. My father…he's dead. _Dead_. Tears formed in my eyes, and I closed them.

"Remember…"

I begged myself. The shame, the regret, the pain…it's so overwhelming. It's so much. I can't remember, but I did these horrible things. I can't remember, but I saw my father die. I can't remember, but I whored myself out to ghouls. That's what Lucas said…I'm a whore. A murderous, merciless, whore. No. No that _can't_ be me, it just _can't_ be.  
"Arrrg!"

I screamed, and hit the ground with my small fists. I caught the exposed muscle on my wrist from the corner of my eye, and it just made me madder. The tears won't leave my eyes, they won't fall down my cheeks, I can't let it out. I can't. I'm a whore, a worthless, killing, whore. How? How could this be? No, I can't accept it. I just _can't_. Grabbing a piece of skin that outlined the muscle, I pulled.

The pain was intense. It nearly matched what I was feeling inside, nearly. I pulled at it until a good six or seven inches was stripped away, and blood coated and dripped everywhere. I could see my muscle, see a part of a vein. What did it matter, though? If I had been a whore to ghouls, then I should just be one. If I had killed innocent people without reason or cause, then I should be dead like them. Even when the wind picked up, and lifted dirt into the open and exposed wound on my arm, I didn't cry. Even though it hurt worse than being shot in the arm, I didn't cry.

I stared at it, not attempting to use the medical supplies in my bag, not looking for a puddle of irradiated water. I just looked at the blood, watched it flow.

"I'm a monster…"

I whispered, wiping my eyes with a bloody hand. Lucas told me what he knew. What he knew…it's not good. The only good thing I can think of is that I disarmed that giant bomb in the center of the city. He didn't mention anything good after that. He didn't even say that…that I was at least _nice_. Just that I walked around, killing people. Me and that ghoul-fellow.

Who is that ghoul? Who is this rotten, disgusting monster that stood by and let me get away with all those crimes? He's as evil as I am, and probably just as ruthless. I felt the blood trickle down my arm, and drip. I ignored the stinging pain as I pressed my hands into the dirt and stood.

Stumbling, I caught myself, and regained balance. Blood dripped on my Pip-Boy screen as I looked at the map. I'm near the river, North of Megaton, near some place called Big Town. I won't go there. I won't go to any more places. I'll just wander around here, lost, hopeless, until I die, or until someone kills me. It doesn't matter. The pain I feel is just too much to handle. It's all too much. This is not my life. Who I was…who I was isn't who I am now, but no one will believe that. No one. They won't take pity on me, and the families of the people I've killed will just laugh, and kill me. I deserve it.

I force myself to walk, trying to avoid the river. I know I need to get my arm healed, but I don't want to. I don't deserve it. I'm a monster. I'm terrible. That's probably why I heal from radiation, because I had sex with so many ghouls. Because I whored myself to them. I probably caught their disease. Sniffing, I blink with tears in my eyes. Endorphins kick in and I feel lightheaded, high and dizzy. My feet kick up dirt as I walk, the hot sun bears down on my back. Torture me for all I care, I deserve it. That's probably why they kicked me out of the Citadel. Because they realized how bad I was. Lucas had told me I worked alongside them, on something called 'Project Purity' and that I had been allied with them before rebelling.

They probably didn't want me to remember, and kicked me out in case I did. I don't blame them. If I were you, I'd hate me, too. Lucas didn't tell me how I forgot my memories, he claimed he didn't know, and I believed him. I had taken off into the desert, with just this very same pack on my back, and a full stock of ammunition. Nothing else. He didn't tell me why I left, just that I had left out of spite and anger. I wish I could remember everything. I don't know who I am, just who people tell me I was. I wish I had a friend. A friend to tell me it all, and make it sound better.

That's just an empty pipe-dream. Having someone sugar-coat who I was wouldn't make me feel any better. I shouldn't talk to people anymore, though. I'm going to make them hurt, let them down, abandon them. I was a cruel person, and I don't trust myself not to fall back into that again. I'm someone else now, but I know if I had the chance to remember I would, and probably fall back into who I was. My arm starts to sting again, and I blink and look down. It's still bleeding, dripping, and I feel my knees shake.

I turn left, to avoid walking near Big Town. I don't know if I've been there or not, if the people know me, but I don't want to take that chance. So I avoid it, leaving a trail of blood behind me. The sun starts to sink, and I look around. Before I got to Vault 101, I camped behind rocks and stayed out of eyesight. Now…now I just don't care. I don't care if a big bug, or one of those giant dinosaur-looking things eats me. It doesn't matter. Not to me, anyways.

I let the sun set. I don't try to look for any place to sleep. Blood dried on my arm, and it begins to itch. Scratching it just makes it bleed more. I can hear things behind me, in front of me, all around me, but I don't care.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry."

I mutter, thinking about all the people Lucas had said I killed.

"I'm so sorry…"

I wish I could go back and see them. I wish I could go and…and make them feel better. I'm sorry. I wish I could tell them that. It's not right that I'm allowed to live, when they weren't even given the chance. I don't even remember who they were. If I could go back…I wouldn't kill them. Hell I wouldn't kill anyone. I'd just…say I was sorry and let them go. I can't believe I was that person, but deep down inside I _know_ I was. It's not something I can brush off. It's an instinct, and my body remembers.

Picking my head up from my gaze at the ground, I sigh. The sun is gone, and it's dark now. I feel tired, and my arm is throbbing. Whenever my heart beats, more blood rushes out. I don't care, and just flick it away like it's a paper cut. I give up. If who I am is this horrible, deceitful, whoring little girl, then why do I want to find out more? I know the jest. Shaking my head, I grit my teeth and groaned. I don't even know me, and I hate me.

My only solution short of getting killed is leaving. I don't know this world, I don't know what to expect, and I can't shoot a gun, but I have to try. I have to get as far away from here as possible, run, like the devil himself is after me. I had thought I was nice. Thought that I was a good person, but now I know otherwise. I wish I could remember, I wish I could go back, and make it right. But I can't. Time travel isn't possible, despite all the other technological advances. I'd give my own life, if I could spare the life of someone I had hurt. I wish I could. I really do. I feel so crummy inside, so dirty and full of pain and…and I just want it all to go away.

Walking. It's all I'm doing. I'm ignoring the hunger pains, ignoring the growling of my stomach, ignoring the aching of my legs and the pain in my arm. I have to keep going, no matter how much I want to stop. Even though my eyelids are falling, even though I'm so tired and so wry, I have to go. I have to get away from this place. After all I've done to these people, it's the least I can give them. It's the least I can do. Spare them ever having to hear about me, spare them from ever having to see my face again. I'm walking away from it all, leaving it all behind, and I hope they can find peace. With all the other evils out here, I hope they smile that one of them is gone.

Glancing up at the starry night sky, I don't find comfort. I think about what Lucas told me, running his words over in my head. He didn't mention Charon. I assume he's dead, died before I left the vault. I bet he was my best friend, and I left him. I left him in there to chase my father, who ended up dying, too. If Lucas didn't mention him, he probably didn't come with me. He could be out here still, but I don't think so. I don't think anyone who would have enjoyed my company is out here. They're in the vault, safe, unbeknownst to my actions. At least, I hope. I hope at least in there I was good and well-liked. I don't think so. Something inside me tells me otherwise. Up ahead, I make out the faint glow of a campfire. Warmth. But it's not mine. Someone else is probably camping there.

The flames dance off rocks, telling me someone found shelter between them. As I get closer, the scent of cooking food fills my senses. My stomach growls loudly, shooting pains through my body, urging me to get closer. I'm so hungry, but I don't deserve food. After all the sins I've committed, I don't even deserve rotten leftovers. But still, I find myself edging towards the rocks, towards the warmth of the fire. It gets chilly at night, and I'm cold, in damp clothes. I'm hungry, it's been a while since I last ate. Only then it was bits of Squirrel Stew I found at an abandoned camp. It was stale, old, but I ate it I was so hungry.

I get closer to the rocks, to the fire. I can see the shadow of someone sitting in front of it, and I see them tear strips of meat off of something, and toss them on a stick, cooking them until the juices drip and sizzle. Food has never smelt so good, and against my mind, against my instincts and better judgment, I walk closer.

"E-excuse me?"

I'm weaker than I thought. I stop walking, standing behind one of the rocks. It comes up to my chest, and I hold on to it for support. I must have lost a lot of blood. I watch as the shadow moves quickly, and the person stands. Blinking, I find myself at the bad end of a gun. It doesn't bother me, I'm so tired, so hungry. I look up at the person, they're blocking the light. I can't make out their features, I can't tell who they are. Even if I could, I wouldn't know them.

"What do you want?"

They rasp, their voice guttural and animalistic. A man. It's a man. Thoughts of what he can do to me race through my mind, but I'm too tired to care. Too exhausted to run. I don't care what he does, I just want food. I can tell he can't see me, either. Its pitch black out here, at night in the desert.

"I-I'm so-so hungry…please, can I have some?"

It's like talking is a workout. My body shakes, my knees buckle. The man cocks his gun, and I give him a sad smile. Even though he can't see it, I hope he senses it.

"Y-you're going t-to kill me?"

He says nothing, and I sigh.

"It-it's okay…I'm just…so hungry."

They growl. I've never heard a person growl before, but I'm not shocked.

"I-I've done bad-bad things…I'm awful so-so if y-you want t-to k-kill me it-it's okay…I-I understand."

I grip on the rock for support. I can't see my assailant, but that doesn't matter to me. I take a gasp of air in, and feel the metal necklace against my chest. I never got to find Charon, but he's dead. I never will get to see my dad, see Charon, and know what they looked like. Maybe when this person squeezes the trigger, I will. Maybe they're waiting for me, somewhere way up high, beyond the smog and beyond the clouds. They're happy, somewhere warm, somewhere peaceful.

"A-are you going to do it?"

There isn't fear in my voice. There's just exhaustion, and the anticipation of what's to come.

"No."

The man takes his gun from my face, and steps back from the rock. I blink, trying to see him, but I can't. He's blocking any light the fire may give.

"M-may I please hav-have some f-food?"

He growls, and turns around. I watch as he vanishes, his shadow reappearing on the opposite rock.

"I-I can't…c-can you help?"

I lift my leg up on the rock, but I can't pull myself over. The person reaches around and grabs the front of my shirt, and recklessly tugs me down. I fall into the dirt, my arms in front of me, legs under me. Usually a fall like that wouldn't hurt, but my body is pretty weakened. I close my eyes, trying to regain strength.

"You are bleeding on my armor."

He tells me, and I struggle to sit up. Pulling my arms into me, I press my palms into the dirt and push up, using the rock to support my back. Cradling my bleeding arm in my lap, I sigh. I don't want to look at the man beside me, I want to pretend he's nice, kind, with good intentions. Looking at him might disperse that idea.

"Here."

He hands me a cooled piece of meat, and a bottle of Purified Water. I take it with my good hands, keeping my head down.

"Th-thank y-you."

I lift the food to my mouth and chew, savoring the taste. The radiation tingles in my mouth, warming me from the inside out. I feel it seep into my veins, and I close my eyes, savoring that, too. Slowly, I take little bites of the food. I don't know how much he's willing to spare, and I want to make this last. Taking the cap off of the water, I drink it down quicker than I wanted. I haven't drank anything in a while. I'm so hungry, so famished.

"You should seek medical attention."

He says to me, and I take the empty bottle from my mouth and finish off the last bit of food. I watch as he reaches for the meat that's cooking, taking it off the sticks. His hands are…mutated. They look like they've been badly burnt, and he hides it under fingerless gloves. I've never felt the need to care for other's wounds, but I felt the need to care for his.

"Your hands…"

I say, following them with my eyes until they vanish from my peripheral vision.

"What about them?"

"They're burned."

Does he not know? I hear him growl, something like a chuckle, but evil.

"You do not get out much, do you?"

I shake my head, moving away from him.

"N-no…I...it's a long story."

He hands me another piece of meat, and I feel like crying. This person is being so generous, so kind.

"Are you warm?"

He asks me, like he's actually concerned. I bite off a piece of meat, and swallow it. I don't need to savor it this time, I need to eat it.

"Yes, I am."

"I am putting out the fire soon."

My insides freeze up.

"I-I'll go."

I'll leave when I finish eating. He's been very nice to me, sharing his food and drink, chewing and screwing would be rude.

"I suggest you stay. You do not seem strong enough to survive the night."

"W-what makes you think that?"

He sighs, and I look away, avoiding the urge to look at him.

"The way you are speaking, the blood you are losing, the way you are eating."

Observant. I nod my head, feeling his eyes on me. I want to look back, but I don't.

"It's…a long story."

"You have stated that, yes."

I stare into the fire. Then, in one swift action, in one cloud of thick dirt, it's gone. I'm shrouded in darkness, surrounded by boulders, next to a man I've only just met. Well, at least he fattens me up before he kills and or rapes me. I eat the rest of my food, and feel the man's hands on my pack.

"Let me see your stuff."

"T-take it all! I-I don't need it."

I let him slide it off my back, and the extra weight disappears. My body rejoices, and I lean against the rock behind me.

"I am not stealing it. I am looking for medical supplies."

"What? Why?"

"You are injured and it seems you are incapable of tending to your own."

I sigh, closing my eyes.

"Truth is, I don't want to tend to it."

My voice is stronger, my strength replenished by the food. But the loss of blood still makes it hard to focus, hard to talk.

"Why?"

He asks, and I hear him fumbling with the Lunchbox of medical supplies. I want to tell him about my little radiation trick, but he'll think I'm a monster if I do.

"I-I've done bad things…I…don't feel I deserve to live."

I feel his arm over my body, and without warning he pulls me closer to him, my bleeding arm in his hand. I can't see in the dark, but I can make out his faint outline. It doesn't tell me much, though. I can feel his hands wiping away the dried blood with a piece of cloth, feel his fingers squeezing my upper arm to lessen the blood flow.

"Everyone out here does bad things. It is what we must do to survive."

Is he talking to me? Speaking to me like a person? Advising me?

"I killed innocent people…"

"How do you know they were innocent? They could have done cruel and evil things as well."

I didn't think of that before…

"I-I don't know…I don't even…remember doing it I…I amnesic."

"I see."

He doesn't even sound shocked. He just goes about wrapping up my wrist like it's nothing.

"You're…not surprised?"

"No."

I feel him tug at my arm, and I look down. The outline of his fingers tie a knot, and he lets my wrist go. From my elbow down I am bandaged up, and I wiggle my fingers.

"Thank you."

I tell him, and move away, curling next to a warm rock.

"If you are cold, I have spare clothes you may wear. Sleeping in wet ones may not be the best choice."

Before I say anything, I feel myself get hit in the face with cloth. I look at them in my hands, feeling them out. Hesitating, I look over at his outline.

"I will turn my back."

He tells me, like he can read my mind. I hear him shift, his body moving against the dirt. I don't want to change, but he's right. I don't really have any other options open to me right now. With no fire and the desert temperatures dropping, I could get really sick. Sighing, I stand, and begin to shed myself of the damp clothes. Peeling off my pants, I quickly slip on the substitutes he gave me.

"I-I'll give them back in the morning…"

I tell him as I slide on the extra shirt. Sitting back down, I hear him turn back around. I can tell by his outline he's facing me.

"Keep them. They do not fit me."

"Then why did you have them?"

"I do not know."

I shouldn't have asked. It's not my business.

"Tell me about yourself."  
He says, his voice quiet. I think he's listening to the noises of the desert, and I hear the metal of his gun tap against the rock behind me. I forgot he had one. I'm scared, but I feel safe. I don't know this person, but he makes my insides warm. He makes me feel okay, and I haven't felt okay since I woke up.

"My name is Dezbe. But, everyone calls me Dez. Well, the people to care to talk to me. I uhm…lost my memory in an accident. I'm not sure how, exactly, no one ever really told me. I woke up a few months ago, and…and I was in the Citadel."

"With the Brotherhood of Steel."

It's a statement, not a question. His tone of voice intimidates me.

"Y-yes. They lied, and said I was born there. I was actually born in a vault."

"Why did you leave the Citadel?"

"I-I don't know. My boyfriend, Gunny, forced me out a few nights ago. He-he said it wasn't safe, but didn't say anything after that. I-I got what he said were my things, and left."

The man was quiet, and I stared ahead and up at the moon. It's not full, it's crescent. The moon out here works in such strange ways.

"I see."

I bite my lip, and pull my knees to my chin. I feel my body coming back to me, the blood pumping back into my veins.

"I went to the vault. Vault 101, because I found a holotape of my real dad in this Pip-Boy, and it said something about a vault. I'm not sure if it was the right one, but I found out that all the others were destroyed, basically."

On my way here, I overheard some people talking about the vaults. All of them, they said, except 101 was lost. Gone, demolished, used and wasted. Vault 101 was my last shot, and it failed me.

"Yes. They are. If you have no memory, Dez, how do you know you killed innocent people?"

I looked to the stars, feeling the sadness inside.

"This man in Megaton, Lucas, told me. He told me everything he knew about me…and…I didn't like it much."

"What did he tell you?"

I sucked in a deep breath of air. I don't want to tell this man, but he's been so kind to me so far. I can't lie to him.

"He…he told me I went around killing innocent people. That the only good I ever did was deactivate the bomb in the center of the town…he…he said I was a whore."

"A whore?"

I nodded, then realized he couldn't see me.

"Not like…not like a regular one, though. I was a ghoul-whore, I guess."

I curled up in a ball, closing my eyes tight, anticipating what the man might say. Maybe he'll take advantage of me and kill me, like anyone else out here would. Maybe he'll leave in disgust. To my shock, though, he simply sat there, talking, listening.

"He did not mention anything else?"

"No, that was it, really. And I hate it. If I ever remember who I was, I don't want to be that person anymore. I'm not cruel, I don't like killing _any_thing, and I certainly don't like ghouls enough to sleep with one."

"Why do you dislike ghouls?"

I sigh, opening my eyes, digging my nails into the fabric of the pants.

"Because the Brotherhood told me they were all bad. My first night out, two ghouls tried to kill me, and the man who saved me from them said ghouls are mean, too."

"Were you underground, when these ghouls attacked you?"

"Yeah, how'd you guess?"

"Feral ghouls. They are not the same as normal ghouls. They are mindless, disgusting zombies."

"Isn't that what all ghouls are?"

"No. You have heard words from prejudice beings."

I sighed, shaking my head.

"No one's very nice out here. Mel, the man who saved me from the feral ghouls, ran away from me once he found out who I was. Everyone in Megaton glared at me, Lucas doesn't like me, either."

I bit my lip, a small whimper escaping my lips. I feel so lonely…

"I like you, Dez."

Turning my head, I look at his outline, trying to see him. His words make my heart beat faster, warming my entire inside like radiation does. I smile at him, hoping he can see it.

"You do?"

"Yes. You seem to be kind. Despite who you were in the past, you are no longer that person now."

"No, no I'm not."

Suddenly, I don't feel so bad. I still hurt and feel bad over what I've done, but, not so much. He's right, I'm not that way anymore.

"You may have done bad things, but it does not make you a bad person. I am sure you did those things for survival, and not of spite."

"Have you done bad things?"

"…Yes."

I lean in towards him. He smells like leather and Brahmin skin. It triggers something in my brain, something strong, but I can't place it.

"Like what?"

If I've done bad things, and he's done bad things, we can be friends.

"I have killed people as well. I have not saved people, when I should have, and I turned my back on the only friends I have made."

I frowned. He's done bad things, too. I feel like hugging him, I don't know why. It's a strong instinct, to hug him and take care of him. I don't know where it comes from, or why it's here, but…I want to. I don't, though.

"I'm sorry. Do you feel bad?"

"I have one regret, yes."

"What's that?"

I hear him sigh, hear him shift on the dirt.

"I…did not try hard enough to save someone. Someone I truly cared about and loved deeply."

He loved someone, that's…that's beautiful.

"Are they okay?"

"Yes. They are fine, for the most part."

"So why regret it? If they're okay, and all."

I hear him sigh again, and I see his outline turn towards me. In the darkness, I can make out the whites of his eyes, he's looking directly into mine. I feel my heart race up, and I wish I knew why.

"Because I did not try hard enough, and I feel I have lost them."

"If you really loved them, though, won't they come back? I mean, did they love you back?"

"Yes, I can safely say. She had only ever told me once, but I could tell she loved and depended on me."

"So she'll come back."

I blinked, and he was looking right into my eyes, right into me.

"I do not know that she will. One can hope, I presume, if it is within reason."

Stretching out my legs, I gave him a wide smile, baring my teeth. I hope he can see.

"Well, _I_ think she'll come back. Sounds like you two really liked each other."

"Yes. We did."

I like hearing about his love life. I don't know why, but it makes me feel like I know him. It's like I can place myself in that scenario, and feel the same feelings.

"What's your name, anyways?"

"Why?"

"Because I've told you my name, why don't you tell me yours?"

"I do not wish to at this moment."

I nodded. People have their own reasons for doing things, I guess. Laying down in the dirt, I used my arms as pillows, and looked up at the night sky.

"Where are you going, anyways?"

I asked him, taking in a deep breath.

"I do not know. Yourself?"

"Ditto. Somewhere far away from here, is all I know. Anyone I want to find, my father, Charon, is dead. There's nothing for me here, and the people hate me. It's better for me to leave."

"Who is Charon?"

I glance at his outline, he's laying down, too. His body is only a few small feet from my own, but for some reason, I feel okay with that.

"I don't know. I have his necklace, and there's a picture of him on my Pip-Boy. I'm guessing he was my brother, or my best friend. He's dead, though."

"Who told you that?"

I shrugged, making a face at no one, staring at the sky.

"My father's dead. Charon was probably with my father, and died with him. I don't remember, I _can't_ remember. But you want to know something funny?"

"Sure."

"Charon was the first thing I remembered. Not him per say, but his name. I was reading a book on Pluto, and it just came at me. So, whoever he was, he must have made an impact."

There was a comfortable silence between us. It wasn't awkward, it wasn't strained, it was kind of like the silence that befalls two friends when there's so much to say, but saying nothing says twice as much. I glance over at the man, happy that I walked up to him.

"When I wake up, will you be here?"

I don't want him to leave me. I feel really safe with him. I feel…I feel something that I don't want to go away.

"I do not know. Perhaps."

"I…don't think I'll live very long on my own. And I mean, if you're going nowhere like me, then we can go nowhere together. I don't want you to…to feel obligated, but the option is on the table, if you want it."

"Dez, I do not think that you will feel as comfortable with me when the sun rises, as you are now."

This man is _very_ observant. He can tell I'm comfortable, he could tell when I was upset. I bet he's a doctor.

"Why?"

"You will see soon enough."

I can't think of any reason for me not to like him right now. He's listened to me, taken care of me, and given me advice. Everyone else just ran and yelled and said mean and hurtful things.

"What if I still want you to come with me when the sun rises?"

"Then I will walk with you, if that is what you wish."

"Where would we go?"

"I have business at Tenpenny Tower I wish to take care of. After that, we may go wherever you please."

Tenpenny Tower. Sounds fancy. I smile at the stars, I have a new friend.

"I think I'll like that. Can you teach me to shoot?"

"Yes."

There's something about him, something about me, that just feels _right_. I can't explain it, and it bugs me that I can't, but it's good. I don't feel so lonely anymore, I feel like I know him already. Like we've been friends for a long time, even though we've only just met. Glancing over at him, I smiled to myself. Someone out here doesn't hate me. I wonder if I'll ever remember that time in my life, I wonder if it'll make any difference once I leave here. I wonder a lot of things, but I don't wonder about this man next to me. He's so nice.

"I'm a terrible shot, you know. Going to need a lot of practice."

"We have time. You will learn."

"Can you shoot?"

"Yes."

"Can you shoot well?"

"Yes."

Then as long as I stick with him, I'll be safe. Kind of. I thought about the first time I shot the small shotgun, and how much recoil it had, how I didn't know what I was doing.

"Will I have to kill people?"

It seemed like a rhetorical question, but hey, no harm in asking.

"Yes."

I bit my lip, looking at his outline. He seemed so nonchalant about it all, like it didn't even bother him. I can't imagine killing anyone. Lucas said I did, but I can't imagine doing it now. It seems so…unnecessary. Why would I have to kill someone, if they did nothing to deserve it? Nothing in this world makes sense, though. I'm figuring that out quick.

"Hey?"

I said, looking at the stars, a kind of smile on my face. I bounced back and forth from looking at his outline and looking at the sky, I don't know why.

"Yes?"

Proper. He's very proper.

"That girl, the one you loved, how'd you meet?"

He sighed, and I heard him shift around on the dirt. He took something out of his pocket, and I heard the click of a lighter. Looking over, he was smoking a cigarette, the flame reflecting his ruined hands.

"It is not a romantic story, if that is what you are searching for."

"No, I'm just curious, really."

"We met nearly a year ago, give or take a few months. I was working in…a bar for an evil bastard. At the time, I was under a contract, honor-binding me to whomever held it. She came in one night, and bought my contract from the employer. That was the beginning, as I remember it."

"Was it love at first sight?"

I heard him sigh really loudly, and I saw smoke coming from his mouth.

"No. It was more like tolerance, annoyance, and a pain in my ass. After some time, however, I began to develop feelings for her. It took a while, for either one of us to act upon those feelings. I did not expect someone the feelings I had to be reciprocated."

"But they were."

"Yes, to my shock, they were."

It sounded like a tragic love story. One you might imagine in your head, one you might want to feel and see for yourself. There's a tone of sadness in his voice when he talks about her, like he really misses her.

"Why don't you go looking for her?"

I asked him, curious.

"I do not need to. I know where she is. I know that she is safe."

"But she might miss you."

"No, Dez. I do not think she knows enough to."

I sat up, pushing my back against the rock. The man laid next to me, like people would lay next to friends. His head was near my hip, and I wanted to hug him. Did everyone out here have a sad story tied to them? Did they have to do bad things, too? I like the way he says my name. It's like…like hearing it from an old friend. It makes me feel warm.

"She doesn't know to miss you?"

"It is a long story. One not fit for tonight."

Even though I can't see him, even though I don't know his name or what he looks like, I can sense he's hurting. It's probably painful, to lose someone you really care about. Especially out here. I can't remember my dad, or Charon, so I wouldn't know how it feels. I bet it's not fun, I can hear it in his voice, the hurt. Crossing my legs, I closed my eyes, and started to hum an old tune.

"You enjoy music?"

His voice broke my concentration, and I opened my eyes.

"Not sure. Never listened to it much."

I kept humming, swaying back and forth. Maybe I can sell my ideas to Three Dog, and he can give me money for making new music. This beat I have going in my throat is pretty fun.

"That is an old, pre-war song, you are humming."

I stared at him, watching as he brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply before bringing it away.

"No it isn't. I just made it up."

"Maybe you remember it, but do not know it."

Naw.

"I don't think so. I've never heard music, never even listened to Three Dog."

"Perhaps you are right, then. My mistake."

I hummed again, now concentrating. Maybe he's on to something. Putting my fingers in the dirt, I let them move. I closed my eyes, and let my entire body go. I could feel my arms moving, feel my fingers dancing, feel it all through me. I hummed the song, trying to put it all together. Maybe he's right. The dirt moved under my fingers, and I felt something inside move. I felt my body, my emotions really, change and shift. It was a rush of happiness, peacefulness, knowing and just…something I can't put my finger on. I kept right along, humming, moving my fingers, keeping my eyes closed. I have heard this song before, but where?

Opening my eyes, I lifted my fingers from the dirt, wiping them on my pants.

"You're right, I think. I have heard that song before…but…I can't remember…"

"I know the words, if we are thinking of the same tune."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"What are they? Can you give me a line? A word? Please?"

I begged him with my eyes, even though he can't see it. If…if something can bring back anything about my past, I want to know it. No matter how small or insignificant it is, I want to know it. I may have been a bad person, but I'm sure there's good things thrown in there, too.

"And every breath we drew was hallelujah."

He said to me. It was a light bulb went on in my head. Not a bright one, but bright enough for me to work on. Closing my eyes, I tapped my legs impatiently, concentrating. I've heard that before, I know I have, there's no mistaking it.

"It's a song about…about…"

It's on the tip of my tongue. If I can just _remember_ it than I can know there's hope. I can know there's something else about me, something not bad. Frustrated, I hit the ground with my palms.

"I can't remember!"

I growled, gritting my teeth. Looking over at my new friend, I saw him lighting another cigarette. He handed it to me, and I took it from him, placing it between my teeth. What is that song? What's it about and why won't it get out of my head? I inhaled the smoke, blowing it out in rings. The white smoke was a good contrast to the night sky, and I wished I could remember.

"You are angry."

He said to me, his voice seeming distant.

"I'm frustrated. I can't remember, but I know things. I know them, but I can't remember them and…and…"

I felt tears in my eyes, and I tried to wipe them away. They weren't going to come out, but I didn't want them there.

"Do not cry, Dez. One day, I am sure you will remember."

"Why are you so nice to me? You don't even know me…you…you have no idea what it's like. To not know anything, to not…_remember_."

"Maybe I am just a nice person, who felt pity for a lost girl."

"Pity. Thanks for that."

Sarcasm. Gotta love it.

"Perhaps 'pity' was not the right term. 'Sympathy' would be best fit."

That's a bit better than pity, but it didn't make me feel better.

"I just want to remember. I want to know why I know the song. I want to know what my father looked like, remember who I am, remember who Charon was. What's the point of knowing all this about myself, if I can't remember it for myself?"

"Maybe knowing will help you remember. Did the doctors at the Citadel ever tell you one day you might remember?"

I shook my head, flicking ash from my cigarette.

"No. They said it wasn't likely. I suffered severe damage to my frontal lobe, I have no idea what that part of the brain does, but I guess memory, because I don't remember."

"The frontal lobe is home to many functions of the brain. It controls memory, personality, motor function, problem solving, spontaneity, initiation, language, judgment, impulse control, intelligence, social behavior and sexual behavior."

I blinked slowly, looking at him.

"So…?"

He sat up beside me, I could see his profile kind of. It looked strange to me.

"Dez, you were a very different person before you sustained injury. I am sure what you are now, is not who you were then. You may not recover from that change, even if you do one day remember who you once were."

"So…I'm not the same as I was?"

"No. You may be smarter, you may be dumber. You may not be able to do things, like shoot a gun, as you were able to do before."

"How do you know all that?"

As much as knowing all this helped, it depressed me. I'm dumb as bricks, and it made me sad to…to think I may have actually been smart once upon a time ago. Because now I'm not smart, really.

"I have lived a long time, and I have studied many things."

"Will I remember if I was smart or not?"

"Perhaps. I am not sure. You could wake up one day with your memory and skills back. The human mind is a mysterious and powerful thing. If you truly want to remember who you were, I am sure one day you will."

I frowned, shaking my head.

"So I guess what Lucas told me was true, huh? When I fired a gun for the first time, my first night here, it was like I just _knew_ how. I haven't felt that way since, but…it was like my body knew, muscle memory, I guess."

"You should listen to what Lucas said, but take it with a grain of salt."

"What's that mean?"

"It means be wry and cautious. He may not have told you the entire story."

True. Lucas…I know he's telling the truth, I have this feeling I can't just ignore. But if he's telling me the whole story, I don't know. Maybe I should keep looking for Charon, and keep trying. There's always a risk that people will attack me, though. That they'll chase me out of town, attack me, hate me, curse at me. I can't remember what I did, but they don't know that, and even if they did I don't deserve their mercy. Shaking my head, I rubbed my hand over my face, clearing and smearing any dirt or dust that was there away. Damn.

"I just want to know who I am."

I said aloud, forgetting for a minute that I'm not alone. Looking over at my friend, this mysterious man beside me, I had the urge to lean on him. Something told me he wouldn't mind. Something inside of me urged me to do it, but I didn't. I don't even know his name.

"In due time, I am confident that you will."

I suck in a deep breath of air as I stub out my cigarette. I'm about to ask a bold question.

"I have something I'd like to ask you."

"Yes?"

"I…I don't know your name. I don't know anything about you, really. But…but you've been kind to me. You've sat with me, listened, and didn't judge me. Will you…will you stay and travel with me? I…don't know how I can do this alone, and I know we just met, but I fee like I know you. I feel like you just understand. If you don't want to, I get it and you can leave whenever and I won't be angry."

He was silent. I hung my head low, staring at my knees.

"I will stay with you, for as long as you need me to be."

Smiling. I'm smiling. I looked over at him, my heart beating for the first time, I think. I have a friend out here. He's a mystery to me, I don't even know what he looks like, but he's my friend. My first real friend in my new life. I've lost my mind, getting it back won't be easy, but I just feel if I can find things about my life, I can slowly piece it all together. I might not ever truly remember, but if I can find things, evidence, stories, I can put it together, and that's good enough for me.

"Thank you. Will you tell me your name now?"

"No."

Suit yourself. I ran my fingers over the dirt, frowning. Did I have friends before? Did someone want to come with me, and stick by me through it all? Did someone keep my secrets, argue with me, hold me at night, love me and give me words of courage? I don't know. I don't know if someone was that important in my life, if I've ever had my life saved by someone, if I've ever kept someone by my side. I wish I knew, because I want to find them. I want to tell them I've lost my mind, but I'm still Dezbe. I'm still her, just different. I want them to come back, and hold my hand. I want them to call me…Superhuman. Superwoman. Superman.

Yawning, I rested the back of my head on the rock behind me. I have a lot of unanswered questions, but like my friend says, in due time.

"You are tired."

He says to me, his voice masking an emotion I can't place.

"Yeah, a little."

"You should rest."

"It's…too cold."

I hear him shuffling around beside me. I close my eyes, not wanting to move, not wanting to do much of anything. I feel something cover me, and the coldness slowly vanishes. Looking down, opening my eyes, I see an old blanket. He gave me a blanket. I guess real kindness does exist out here.

"Dez I must confess I am worried about how you will react when the sun rises, and we can view one another in the light."

"Why?"

"You will soon see."

With that, my friend laid down in the dirt. I saw his hand clasped around the outline of his gun, and his other arm substituted as a pillow. There's a secret I'll share with you, my friend. Something I've always known, but never told anyone else before. I'm telling you because I trust you, because I know you will soon be sleeping, and won't remember anything. Because you have shown me kindness and compassion, and taken me in when you didn't even know who I was. You still don't know me, but I don't know myself either, so I guess that makes it okay.

I can remember the feel of this Charon man. It's what makes me wonder what his relationship was to me. If I close my eyes, and try really hard, I can feel all these wonderful emotions, and the weight of him over me. Like he's pressing down on my chest just hard enough so I can feel him. I remember emotions, wonderful and intoxicating emotions I can't fathom now, but felt once before. I can see his eyes, too. They're white, with tints of blue behind them. But that's all, really. I can't remember his face, what he looked like, his height or anything like that. Just the emotions, just the feelings, the weight of him over me, and his eyes. Those spooky, terrifying, magnetizing eyes. In my wildest nightmares, I'd see those eyes, and I'd know I was safe. I'd just know.

Like I feel with you, my friend. I don't know you, but I feel so safe with you. I feel like…you would keep me safe, if danger ever caught up to us. If I needed you. I don't know why, because I just met you, but it's a powerful sense of companionship. I'm not sure if you feel it, too, but I do. I don't feel…so alone, when I know you're laying just feet from me. In my mind, I don't feel alone, I can hear your advice, your wisdom. It comforts me, and I haven't felt comforted in a long time. This world, this Capital Wasteland, it is a cruel place. It is filled with death, destruction, sadness, loss and hopelessness. But with you, my dear sweet friend, I don't feel that. I feel safe, and that is all I need to know you are a good person.


	7. Phallus and Philosopher

The sunlight burned though my eyes. It made me see red, made me overheat. My back feels so stiff, from sleeping against the stupid rock. Without opening my eyes, I kick the blanket from me, yawning an stretching. I smell the scent of cooking food, and my mind whirs to life. Last night…I made a friend. He bandaged my arm, and took care of me. It wasn't a dream. It really happened.

Opening my eyes, I blink away the blurriness and rub the sand crust that gathered in the corners. I stretch out my arms, and look next to me. My friend is gone. I frown, feeling abandoned. Did he leave?

"It is early. You may sleep more, if you wish. I am in no rush to travel."

No, no he's here. He's here. His voice makes my insides jump to life, and I glance down at my wrist. Brown dried blood is stained on the bandage, and I smirk at it. I'm safe, for now. I'm still with my friend. Looking to my right, I see his back to me, he's cooking over a small fire. I can see the back of his head. Patches of red hair poke out, and I see exposed muscle, and old flesh. I'm not scared, and I don't know why.

"Did you get caught in a fire?"

It's a stupid question, but I'm tired, my filter that stops me from saying things isn't working right. Running my fingers through my hair, I remember how comforted I feel whenever I do that. My friend keeps his back to me, his arms moving and messing with meat he has on a stick.

"No."

"What's wrong with your skin? You look like you got burned badly."

He sighs loudly, but doesn't turn around. I stand up and stretch my whole body out at once. My friend stands with me, and I feel intimidated. His shadow engulfs me. I'm tall for a girl, five eight, give or take. But him, he's a whole head and shoulders tall than me. A foot taller, maybe. I stare up at his back. He's wearing old, leather armor it looks like. His gun, a drum shotgun, is strapped to his back. Standing in his shadow in the early morning sun, I've never felt safer, more secure.

I watch as he slowly turns around, his body moving, his shadow copying him. I look up at his face, and step back, my hand covering my mouth.

"Y-you're a-a ghoul!"

He is. He's a ghoul. His nose is absent, he has no ears, his lips are thin and cracked. He doesn't say anything to me, as I look him up and down, he just looks at me with those eyes. When my eyes meet his, something inside flushes. It travels all through my veins and my organs, rushes up my chest and stops in my throat. I'm not scared of him.

"Yes."

His voice matches his look. It's raspy, with a hint of something unknown. The way he says his words makes my brain click, but I can't remember. I stare at him, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Wh-what are you cooking?"

He's been kind to me. He's been nice. I wouldn't be a very nice person, a very good friend, if I ran away scared. The thing is, too, is I'm not scared. I thought I would be, if I ever met a ghoul. I thought I'd run screaming and never look back. But him…he's different. I can't describe it, but I don't want to leave him.

"Molerat. Killed it last night, the meat is still fresh if you are hungry."

I nod, stepping closer to him, showing him I'm not scared. He doesn't seem to concerned, and turns back around. He crouches over the fire, and I crouch next to him. There's something about my friend, something he's not telling me. I think in due time he'll open up, tell me what he's hiding, and why he looks at me like that. It's not my business to pry, so I'll wait for him to feel comfortable.

"You are not frightened by me. I had assumed you would be, when you expressed your aversions to ghouls last night."

"Maybe its from my ghoul-whoring days. I just don't feel scared of you."

"Perhaps you simply have just been given the wrong information about us."

He hands me a warm piece of meat, and I devour it. There's only two strips left, one for each of us. He reaches to take his piece, and tears it in half. He hands me the bigger slice. I don't even think Gunny's given me the bigger half of anything, and we were safe in the Citadel. Here in the desert, food is scarce, and he's giving me the majority of the food. That says a lot, about who people are, I think.

"Thank you."

I mutter, and eat the food in silence. He eats his half in one bite, and stands. I watch him over my shoulder, as he collects his belongings and throws them into a small bag. Standing up, I get my own things, and sling it over my back. We stare at one another, in the small rock valley we spent the night in. He's my friend, and he's a ghoul. I don't know his name, but I feel an overbearing sense of knowledge about him. I feel…I feel…

"Do you wish to begin our travels?"

His voice takes me from my thoughts, and I look up at him.

"Uh…yeah. Where are we going?"

"I have business I must attend to at Tenpenny Tower. Do you mind?"

"No, no not at all."

He steps over the large rocks easily. They come up to my chest, and I stare at them, confused. Throwing my arms over them, I try to scramble up the side. I look up and see my friend…giving me a small, silly smile. It's like he's laughing at my inability to climb.

"Here."

He says, and grabs the back of my pants with one hand, lifting me like I'm nothing. I slide down the rock on my stomach, and catch myself with my palms in the dirt. My stomach slides over the dirt, and I kick my feet against the rock to help myself stand. When I finally manage to stand up, he's standing with his arms crossed, a humorous look on his face.

"What?"

I ask, smiling before I know it.

"You are just clumsy. It amuses me."

"Yeah, I'm not great in the whole 'survival' department."

"Survival has nothing to do with climbing over a rock."

He's right, and I feel my face flush a deep red. Rubbing the back of my neck, I look down at my feet. I never felt embarrassed before, but I do now.

"So…where we heading?"

I try to divert the topic, so I can stop feeling like this. Why do I, anyways?

"South. We will head South until the tower presents itself to us."

"Right."

He begins to walk, and I jog to catch up to him. He slows his pace for me, so we can walk side by side. I don't look at him. Not that I don't want to, but because I feel shy. I've never had a friend like him before, certainly not a ghoul, but I've also never felt such a mixture of old and new emotions. I say old and new because, well, they're new now, but I think I've felt them before.

Looking up at my friend, I focused on his profile. It doesn't look odd to me, but instead, strangely familiar. I want to touch him, but I don't. He might not like that.

"You are a strange girl, Dez."

He says to me, and I smile up at him. Just me and my best ghoul friend. Sounds like that could sell a million, if I made it into a song. Me and my best ghoul friend, wandering the world till there's no end. Oh, I'm traveling the world, with my best ghoul friend. See? Kind of catchy, I think so.

"I made up a song in my head."

He looks at me, confused.

"Oh?"

I nod, feeling proud. I think this is the first time since waking up, that I haven't been obsessed with who I am, and what my past is.

"Yup. I call it 'Me and my Best Ghoul Friend'. Want to hear how it goes?"

"Not really, no."

Sourpuss. I shrug and continue walking with him. I kick up rocks and dirt, letting the wind take them away. I'm not looking over my shoulder every two minutes. I don't have to. He has a gun. He'll keep me safe.

"What do I call you, if you won't tell me your name?"

I hear myself ask. I glance over to see him reach into his pocket, pulling out two cigarettes and lighting them both. He hands one to me, and I take it.

"Whatever you feel suits me."

"I wish you'd just tell me your name."

"In due time, Dez. Be patient."

"You sound like a…a…what's it called? Phallus?"

I look at him intently, and see the corners of his mouth move up into a small, very small, smile.

"Philosopher, is what I think you mean."

"Yeah, that."

"I am not. I am just aware that things will come to you in due time."

I cock my eyebrow, curious.

"Did we ever meet? Before, I mean."

He stops walking and scans the area. I look around, too, but I don't see anything. When I turn back around to look at him, he's staring at me. I feel my heart skip a beat as his eyes drill holes in my head. He's so threatening, so intimidating, but not to me. No, not to me. His hand reaches towards me, and I don't cower. I take a closer look at his hand, and I see now it's not a burn, it's rotted. His fingers touch my face, grazing my cheek. I let his hand wander up, and feel a slight gasp of air escape my lips as I feel his fingertips gently grazing the scar above my right eye. A rush of unknown emotions engulf me, and I don't want his touch to go away. Damn. I wish I knew why.

"This is where…the injury took place?"

I want to speak, but I can't find words. It's like my entire body is frozen solid, and all I can feel is his sort-of skin on mine. Slowly, I nod my head. His eyes don't leave mine. He's looking at me like someone would look at an old friend. I see sadness in his eyes, and I want to know why it's there, but I don't ask. I bite my lip, and he takes his hand away.

"I did not mean to make you nervous."

He says, like he can read my mind. We start walking again, and I throw my cigarette away. I don't feel like smoking.

"You…you didn't."

My voice comes back to me, but it sounds different. Like it's not my own. My senses are going crazy, reacting to his touch. I can still feel his hand against my face, it tingles. He doesn't say anything back, and that's okay. I look up at him, I've never met someone like him in my life. Well, my life as far as I know it.

"You never answered my question."

I tell him, and he turns his head from me.

"You remind me of someone I once knew is all."

"Who?"

"The girl I told you about last night."

I cock an eyebrow. Since when do I look or act like a ghoul?

"How?"

"Some of your mannerisms are the same."

"I didn't know I acted like a ghoul. I mean, no offence, but I just think ghoul girls would act different than normal girls. I know I would, if I was one."

"She is not a ghoul."

He doesn't use past tense. Well, she's not dead, but she's also not with him anymore. He's quite confusing, if you ask me.

"What do you mean? She a Super Mutant?"

He shakes his head at me.

"She is a smoothskin."

Smoothskin?

"What's that?"

"A derogatory term to describe a human, since their skin is so smooth."

My jaw drops, my heart…what's it doing now?

"You mean…you mean she's a _human_?"

"Yes."

I can't imagine that. I can't fathom it. Wouldn't…wouldn't doing anything with a ghoul be, kind of like…doing it with a corpse? I mean, my friend here is nice and all, but I can only imagine what he feels like. His insides must be leaking out under his clothes, he must be…all rotten and disgusting. No offence to him, I'm just generalizing.

"That's…wow. I can't imagine doing that. But I guess it's possible. I was a whore for ghouls, remember?"

I notice when I say that, his hands open and close, making fists. Looking up at his face, I see his jaw clenching tightly. Did I say something to make him mad? Did I hurt his feelings? I wait for his reply, and after a few minutes of silence, I break it.

"She must have…been a great girl."

"Yes. She is. She was able to look past…my deformities, and care for me as a person. Not as a monster. I would have done anything for her, and still would."

"I still don't see why you can't go find her. We can do it together, if you want."

I figure offering my help might score me some good points, and maybe he'll cheer up. It seems he's always angry. He shakes his head at me, closing his eyes for a minute.

"One day, she will return to me. I trust in that."

I look down at my feet, thinking of Gunny. I feel angry towards him right now. He left me, abandoned me, whereas this person, this ghoul, seems like he would have sacrificed his own life for his love. Gunny…he just wanted to have sex with me, I think.

"I wish…my boyfriend would have done that."

I bite my lip, blinking away tears. I've lived a sad life, if the only person who wants to keep my company is a ghoul who looks like he can rip the heads off of Super Mutants.

"He did not care for you?"

I shrug, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"I don't think so, no. He kind of just left me out here, without anything. He never really…did anything. When you talk about your girlfriend, it's like…real. It's an emotion I wish someone felt for me. Gunny was too busy thinking with the wrong head, I guess."

"Many men do that, it seems."

"I wouldn't know. Gunny just liked to kiss me, I guess. New girl in the Citadel."

I look at my feet, watching them walking. Frowning, I wish I could…I could have someone love and care about me like he cares about this girl. I wonder who she is, if she knows me. I bet she's really nice, and she took very good care of him.

"She was nice, wasn't she?"

"Who?"

"Your girlfriend."

"In a sense, yes. She was kind to me from the beginning, but we have had our fair share of fights. Yet when we fought, if I received injury at any point in time during that argument, she dropped it. Her main priority was my well-being, even before our relationship transformed into what it had. However, she was not always kind to other people."

"What do you mean?"

"Her morals, they were off kilter. Her logic was one to question, but she was a good person. There was always something about her, that I could never piece together. A secret she never shared with me, a sadness within her. I felt sometimes, I would lose her to the tortures of her mind, and it angered me, that I could not help."

He really loved her. Or, loves. It's like his voice lifts when he talks about her, and he doesn't seem so angry. I wish someone would talk about me like that. I'd give anything to hear it.

"You two must have been close."

"Yes."

"I wish I was that close to someone. It sounds so wonderful…"

"Perhaps you were, and you just do not remember."

I look up at him, hopeful.

"Do you really think that?"

"Yes."

"I hope I remember them soon…"

Reaching into my shirt, I pull out the metal necklace and look at it in the sun. Charon. Maybe he wasn't my brother. Maybe he was my lover. People don't give other people things like this unless they're close. Maybe he was my own love out here, and he really cared about me.

"Charon…"

I said, forgetting I wasn't alone. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my friend turn to me, then quickly turn away. He's probably looking at my necklace.

"It's Charon's."

I tell him, and he nods. He doesn't look at it, and I watch as the sun glitters off of it. Aside from his picture, it's all I have of him. Staring at it, thinking, I realized something, and tucked it back into my shirt.

"Is something wrong?"

Ghoul friend asks me, and I look up at him, sighing.

"If Charon cared so much about me…why did he leave? Why did I wake up alone in the Citadel, and why didn't he come back to me? That's another reason I think he's dead. Or maybe I pissed him off, and then the accident happened, and he just thinks he's dead…either way…he's probably forgotten me by now. It's been a long time."

"Perhaps he could not reach you. You do not know what happened, there may have been incidents, events, people, that prevented him from getting to you."

"True, but then why wouldn't he try to find me now?"

"I am sure he is looking. Do not be so quick to assume the worst."

He's right. Maybe Charon is looking for me. Maybe he caught wind that I got out of the Citadel and is looking for me right now. Clutching the necklace under my shirt, I sigh, and try to remember him.

"Charon…"

I say again. His name feels…it feels right on my lips. Like I'm meant to say it, like I've said it so many times before. I don't doubt that I have, but the way it falls off of my lips…it's like something a girl would say to her lover while they romp in bed. It's filled with longing, an emotion I'm not familiar with.

"The way you speak his name is intriguing."

I smirk, staring at the ground ahead of me.

"I'm intrigued by it too. Want to know what I remember about him?"

"Yes."

Closing my eyes, I hold onto the necklace like my life depends on it.

"I remember emotions. They're strong ones, I can't describe them. It's like a fire is burning inside, and I can remember his feel. I can feel his weight on me like he's all around, like he's protecting me from something. I can see his eyes, they're milky white and blue."

Opening my eyes, I let go of the necklace, and shove my hands back into my pockets.

"Perhaps you loved him."

I didn't think of that. The way he says it, I know it's true. It just fits, another piece of the puzzle that works, but ten more pieces have been added. Yes. It works. Love. Lust. _Passion_. That's what fills me when I think of him. Passion and lust and security. I stop walking, and I stare at the ground, my entire body tingling.

"Dez?"

I hear his voice, it's so far away. My mind clicks, turns, the gears and knobs working. I feel the world slipping away from me, and images flash in front of my eyes. I feel something in my hair, I feel the warmth of someone else. It's him. It's Charon. I can see him, his body laying next to mine. I can see his chest, but it's dark. I feel his fingers running through my hair, his warm body against my own. I feel my hand on his flesh, my fingers trace over his muscles, he's rough. He's hard. His body is fit…but I can't see it. I can _feel_ it. The emotions.

Closing my eyes, I block everything else out, and focus on the memory at hand. I feel his lips on mine, and it…it feels rough. Soft, but rough. Like…like…the feel of the clothes I'm wearing. I feel lust run through my body, and I feel him all around me. It's so vivid, but so foggy at the same time. I feel my body ache, but ache with pleasure, anticipation.

Opening my eyes, I look at my ghoul friend. My body is tingling all over, as if I relived the experience.

"I...did love him…"

I say, my voice filled with displaced passion and emotion. Slowly, I blink, staring up at my ghoul friend.

"Why did you stop?"

He's concerned, and I shake my head, running my fingers through my hair.

"I…remembered. I remembered him."

"Oh?"

"Not him, I can't see him, but I felt him. I felt his…chest. I felt his kiss and his hands…"

"His hands?"

I nod, and we keep walking. He's interested in what I have to say, so I keep talking.

"His fingers, he used to run them through my hair. I remember liking that, a lot. He kissed me, and his kiss felt like my shirt. I think…I think we were having sex or…or laying in bed…"

I blink and look to the distance, look to the horizon. I had loved him, and loved him a lot. My heart hurts, because I know I lost him. He's out here, somewhere. I've never felt such strong emotions before. I never thought I had felt them. A warm breeze hits my face. I can't remember, but I want to remember. I wish I could see his face. Even though I have his picture in my Pip-Boy, it's still not the same. I want to _remember_ him, not just see some picture. I want to see him in my head. My friend doesn't say anything, and I look at him, my eyes begging him for answers. He doesn't have any, I don't think, but it doesn't hurt to try.

"Yes? What is it?"

He asks when he catches me looking at him. I let out a frustrated sigh, and look around the barren desert.

"I want to remember. It's making me so mad that I can't."

"I see."

He doesn't say anything else, but he takes his shotgun from his back. I freeze up, and look at him.

"Do you see something?"

I watch him scan the area, looking down the barrel of his gun. He doesn't say anything, and I feel my insides churn uncomfortably. I don't see anything, but he might.

"I thought I heard something…"

He says and we keep walking. He carries his gun at his side, finger on the trigger.

"Are you going to teach me how to shoot?"

"Yes. When we arrive at Tenpenny Tower."

I nod and stare at the rocks and dirt. I want to remember Charon, but it's like there's this huge, big wall stopping me from doing it. I want to remember my dad, but that same wall stops me. I hope it'll come down one day, and I can remember everything, the good and the bad. Sighing, I kick at a small rock on the ground. My friend seems like he's on watch for something, he keeps looking around.

"You're making me nervous…"

He looks at me for a minute, then goes back to scanning the area.

"I did not mean to make you nervous. I think I hear something."

I try to listen, but I don't hear anything.

"I don't hear anything."

"Maybe I was mistaken."

I shrug and put my arms behind my head. I see something up ahead, and I squint.

"What's that?"

I ask, and motion with my head. He looks, and straps his gun to his back.

"Trading caravan. They will not harm us."

"Does that mean they have things for trade?"

"Yes."

"Think they have ammo?"

"Perhaps."

I smile. It's not like I need new ammo, but I smile anyways. I have no reason to, in fact, I have every reason in the world _not_ to smile. But I'm smiling. Looking up at my friend, I examine his features. Muscle, veins, they're exposed under bits of rotten flesh. Somehow, I think it's interesting, pretty. It's like being able to see the insides of something, and the insides of people are disgusting.

That 'inner beauty' crap is nothing more than that, crap. We are filled with blood, veins, organs, mucus and bile. No one is beautiful on the inside. But for some reason, as I stare at my friend in the sunlight, I respect him more. I respect ghouls more. They have the courage to walk around, showing their ugliness to the world, doing all and surviving. Under that ugliness, too, is kindness. My friend has no outward reason to be nice to me, but he is. He's cold, and distant, but he's kind to me. I feel safe with him. I feel like he's my best friend, and I hardly know him.

His eyes catch mine, and I stop smiling. They freeze my body, stiffening me up on the inside. My heart feels like it stopped, but then it beats again, pumping blood back into my veins.

"S-sorry."

I stammer, tearing my gaze away from him. I feel…like I can remember. Like if I stayed with him, one day, I'd remember. It's like everything is okay, when his shadow overcasts mine, when his feet hit the sand and dirt, making deep groves.

"Hey?"

I ask him, and he looks down at me. We're coming up to the caravan, but I don't want to talk to them.

"Yes?"

"What can I call you? Since you won't tell me your name."

"Whatever you wish to call me."

I look up at the sky, and smirk.

"Sunshine."

"No."

"You said I could call you whatever I wanted."

He looks at me, and I see the hidden humor in his eyes.

"Do I look like a bloody ray of Sunshine?"

I laugh, and cover my mouth with my hand. I steal a glance, and notice he's smiling a bit, too.

"No, no I guess not. I can't go around calling you 'ghoul', though."

"I suppose not."

"How about Kevin?"

He shook his head, swatting at my words with his hand.

"Don't call me anything. I prefer anonymity."

"Suit yourself."

What do I call someone, who I know nothing about? We pass the caravan, there's nothing there I need. I have all I need I guess, in my pack. I don't know myself, but I call myself Dez.

"What did your girlfriend call you?"

I ask him, staring up ahead.

"She called me…many things."


	8. Old Times, Old Memories

(Charon)

I was going to kill her, last night. I do not like intruders, I do not like Wastelanders or beggars. She came to my small area, my camp, begging for food. In the darkness, I could not see her. I held my gun, my finger ready to pull whenever I deemed it fit. Then, then something stopped me. It was not the sound of her voice, she does not sound the same. It was not the way I saw her outline in the shadow of the moon, there was no moon. It was her presence, her overbearing, dominant, enticing presence. No other female could ever give those feelings out so boldly.

When I brought her into the fire, I knew it was her. The flames illuminated her face, her profile, and I had to hide my excitement. I had to keep it away, buried deep down inside myself. Elder Lyons had told me she would not remember. The damage to her brain she sustained was immense, and they were amazed she had even survived. When I saw her, sitting beside me, I knew she had no idea, no inkling, of who I was or am.

As we walk, side by side in the barren desert, it reminds me of old memories, old times. It brings back feelings and emotions I have worked so hard to submerse. Since our departure, since the incident at the Citadel, I have tried to rid myself of any feelings or attachment for her. I have worked, at suppressing sinful desires and images that plague me. Images of myself killing the Brotherhood, bare-handed, until every one of them is dead, and their blood flows like the Potomac River.

She is not the same Dez I once knew, but I love her just the same. She is kinder, an innocence of ignorance of the world surrounds her. Yet underneath that façade, that image she has made herself believe, is the cold-blooded killer I once knew. Dez is still the woman who would mercilessly spray a town with bullets, if it meant earning a few caps. She is heartless, like me, killing to survive, and basking in the glow of the hot sun. One day, I am hoping soon, this person will come out again. I am hoping she will become the person I once knew, and remember everything about herself, remember me.

She speaks of me so highly, and yet is so blind to see I am right in front of her. I am aware she believes Charon to be some human, some thick-haired, muscular smoothskin being. He is not. He is me, rotten, flesh decayed, absent of facial features. I can tell, by the way she says my name, there is still love there. I can tell by how she freezes up when a memory ensnares her, she remembers something about me. My only hope is she remembers quickly, soon, so that we can find a way from here. Perhaps when she remembers, her and I can take vengeance on the Brotherhood, for separating us. I feel if they had not, Dez would have remembered by now. Rather, she was brainwashed.

The things Lucas told her, they are lies. They are a horrid interpretation of the truth. Yes, Dez has done bad things, yes, she did them willingly, but no, she is not a bad person. Lucas failed to mention me, failed to mention it was her who started the Purifier. He did not mention her escorting Gob to Underworld, or speak of how much inner turmoil and guilt she dealt with. Of course he would not know that, but it should be mentioned to her.

I, however, cannot. I must elude her, and make her think I know nothing about her without directly lying. She would not believe me, some ghoul, is the same Charon she views on her Pip-Boy. I would be accused of lying, of entrapment, of deceiving her. She is very vulnerable right now, and many people will want to take advantage of that. It is my job, to make sure no one does. I love her, I always have, I still do. Winning her back will prove hard, if she does not remember, but it is a challenge I will not give up on easily.

My task at hand, at the moment, is to accompany an old acquaintance of mine. I had not intended to, at first, until Dez barged back into my life. Roy Phillips, an old Underworld resident, is attempting to gain entrance to Tenpenny Tower. I will aid him in this now, because Dez needs a safe, secure place of living. I am confident Roy will provide this once I agree to help with his cause. Dez cannot survive in the desert in her present state, let alone venture off into the Capital Wasteland. I intend to keep in inside the tower, until she is well enough to venture onward. Until her memory returns, and she can once again look at me with the desire and love she once held in her eyes.

"Hey?"

Her voice enters my ears, and travels into my body. There has been a quiet silence between us, since our short conversation about my name. I hope she has nothing more to say about me. The desires come back, angry and unrestrained, when she calls my name.

"Yes?"

I reply to her, half-listening. I try not to view her, try not to look at her frame. It is a challenge, to hold back holding her. To hold back from taking her in my arms and kissing her smooth skin and running my fingers through her hair as I once did so many months ago.

"My birthday is coming up, you getting me a present?"

She is childish. Something I am not use to, something that was not present before. The changes she has undergone…it worries me, how she may react when her memory persists and returns.

"What would you like?"

I do not ask her age. She will tell me.

"I'm going to be twenty and I want…a good time."

"A good time?"

She nods, closing her eyes as she walks.

"Yup. Gunny used to tell me when my birthday came, he'd show me a 'good time'. I know that means sex, but I always hoped it would be something fun, like stargazing or a nice meal."

Gunny. His name makes my blood boil. I know who he is, what he looks like, and I hate him. I hate him for being part of the Brotherhood, but more I hate him for daring to touch her. For daring to lay his hands upon something he knew is so sacred to me. The rage I feel, when she says his name, is near uncontrollable.

"You wish for me to make you a nice meal, and take you stargazing?"

To my shock and surprise, she nods her head.

"Yeah. I don't know how to cook, and…well, no one's ever stargazed with me. It's not for another couple of weeks, so if you don't want to that's okay."

"I will."

She smiles up at me, and it damn near breaks my heart. My Dez, the only being who has ever cared for me, who has lain with me and shown me love, is lost. She is still there, hiding behind that mask, I can see it. I can tell her angry, old self is just itching, _begging_ to be released. I have become cruel, cold-hearted, angry and bitter since the incident, and I wonder when she remembers if she will still love me then.

"Thanks. You know, you're really nice."

I grunt at her. I am not nice. I am nice to her, or as nice as I can manage to be, because of who she is, and what she means to me.

"What are we going to this tower for, anyway?"

"An old acquaintance needs my help."  
"Well, aren't you the noble one?"

The sarcasm irritates me. It is like a pre-teen girl, trying to emulate her older sister. It bothers me, that she is not the person I once knew.

"No."

I tell her, shattering an image she may have had of me.

"You seem familiar to me."

It is an offhand comment. One I believe she did not intend for me to hear, but I pry anyways. My prying, may make her memory return sooner.

"Why is that?"

I show her with my words I am specifically interested in this. She is stupid, but she is not oblivious. I know she picks up on it.

"I…don't know. But I…just feel…like I know you. Like…like…"

I see her hit herself in the forehead from the corner of my eye. I make no movement to stop her, she deserves it.

"I can't remember, I can't explain it."

Defeat. She feels defeated and hopeless. By chance, I glance down at her, and see her peering up at me, water fresh in her eyes. For such a sad being, she never cries. As if her old self does not allow her to. Her internal struggle to constantly be strong is now working against her.

"You will."

"I hope…it's…so angering. I feel so _angry_ for no reason sometimes."

Dez. That is my Dez. The ruthless and angry woman who gave herself to me, that is her.

"Do you ever act upon this anger?"

"No…I mean, I want to hit things, but I don't. I had an outburst once at the Citadel, but…they stopped me."

"What did you do?"

Her eyes glaze over as she remembers. I am trying to use her anger, to let her old self return. As if it is a game, the anger is bait.

"I attacked Sara. I thought she was my sister at the time, she made me so angry. I don't know why, but when I saw her, I just felt…so _mad_. I fought her, but they…they pulled me off and Lyons…well he punished me."

"How?"

"Put me in this room. Told me I could come out once I cooled off. It was a small room, like a cell, and I could barely stand. So I tore at the door and hit the walls until I couldn't anymore. Then they let me out, and I just held the anger in."

Anger…it is what I feel. It is what pumps in my veins when she tells me this. I want to return there, and kill them all. Slaughter them and make them pay for what they have done to her, to me, to us. They would not believe that this girl once stood in front of me during battle, shooting with a manic smile upon her face. They would not believe this same person, pressed her naked body into mine as the coolness of night set in, gentle as a tames dog. Looking at her, I can see the torment she hides, I can see the pain she masks without knowing it. She _wants_ to remember me, but she cannot. I do not know what to do, when she flushes my anger, and makes me so sad for her.

She is everything to me. Her story is told in silence, in hushed words, she is the boogeyman to children of the Capital Wasteland, and the Jesus of those she helped. The talk of her like she is a myth, like she does not truly exist. It builds inside of me, the sadness, the anger, the hatred I feel for every being that has cursed her name in the silence of the night. If only they knew her, knew of her struggles and that beneath that veil, Dez was and is, nothing more than a sad, scared little girl.

"Oh."

I act like I do not care, but I do care. I care more than anyone else in her life ever has. Last night, she remembered 'Hallelujah'. I watched as her hands carefully played the notes, her conscious self unaware. Her fingers delicately danced in the dirt, and in my mind I played along with her. Her beauty in the moonlight, it is everlasting, ever enticing. I had hoped, for a short minute, she would remember that song, and remember me along with it. That somehow she would remember us playing the piano together, but she did not.

"I've been here before…"

I cease walking and glance down. She is not that. Looking behind me, I notice she has stopped walking, and is standing a few paces behind me.

"What?"

I ask her, curious once more.

"I-I've been here."

Once, she let me know everything about her. Now, now it is quite different. The night we shared together, the night in the old abandoned home, I felt pure love for what it was for the first time. My body worked as if it was instinctual, as if I knew. Her arms were around my back, embracing me as if her life depended on it. The gasps of air that emitted from her lips, the way she moaned my name in the darkness, made my heart race faster than it ever has before. Her hands, her breasts, her thighs and stomach, they were all against me, in my hands, at once. She clung to my back, moving with me, kissing me. In that one night, she had successfully broke everything I had strived so hard to work for. Strived so hard to build myself against, and worked so hard to never feel. When she called my name in the darkness, I knew I was no longer Charon. I was no longer the person I had been taught to be. I was her person, forever unspoken bound to her. Forever is a long time, I know, I have lived long enough to see it.

"You remember?"

I ask, hopeful and thinking of that single night.

"I-I think…"

She walks around in a small circle, and stops facing East. There are no landmarks near us that she would be able to remember, to visualize. I watch her, anticipating what she says.

"I was here, I've been here…he was here, too."

"Who?"

"Charon…"

It sends shocks up my spine, lust and desire, whenever she says my name.

"I see."

She shakes her head, the memory playing before her.

"We…we traveled here…going…going that way we…"

She points West. Rockopolis.

"Megaton…"

Her eyes roll in the back of her head, her body sways unevenly, and I react quickly. I run towards her, and catch her limp body in my arms, her hair sprawled across her face. Blood trickles from her nose, and I brush the hair away, allowing my fingers to tug at the strands, and linger longer than necessary. She has fainted, in my arms, as if she is sleeping. I lift her into my chest, holding her close to me. I will carry her to safety, and await her wake. I can only hope, this means she remembers, that she will…look at me, and remember who I am.


	9. Keep Moving

Opening my eyes, I feel warm. Warm all over, outside, inside, so warm. I can't see anything, but there's a faint glow beside me. I can hear myself breathing. My senses kick in, and I feel the dirt underneath me, my legs pressing into it, it catching under my nails. The smell of food invades my nose, waking my mind up, renewing everything.

"Ugh…"

I groan, shaking my head from side to side. My hair is under me like a pillow, and I groan trying to pick myself up. My head is throbbing, and when I rest my hand against my forehead, I remember what happened. A flush of colors, sounds, movements, all came back to me. It all came back at once, in an instance. Emotions, too. I felt brave, angry, adventurous and…and violent. I felt like I could race into the city, and single-handedly take down every Super Mutant in my path.

It was so empowering. I felt like I could slit someone's throat and take their ammo without a second thought. I remembered walking from Megaton, angry, angry so angry, towards an unknown destination. I remember wanting to destroy the town, and someone walking beside me. They were tall, and I called them 'Charon'. It was him. I knew it.

But it wasn't so much the memory that threw me off, and made me faint, so much as the attack on my senses was. It was like all coming in clear, from out of nowhere, and my broken brain couldn't handle it. I felt so dangerous, so filled with rage and outbursts, I felt sexually frustrated, and…_fuck_.

Looking around, taking in a deep breath, I noticed it was night, and the light I saw was the light of fire.

"You are awake."

I turned around. My friend sat behind me, eating.

"I-I…"

I can't talk.

"You have been passed out for quite some time. I was almost beginning to worry."

I smirked, feeling something not like myself.

"Sounds like you're starting to give a shit, huh?"

He blinked, surprised, and looked at me. I saw a…a look of familiarity cross his face, a satisfied half-smirk, and relief all at once. Who am I again? Where is this coming from?

"I'd have to like you to give a shit."

"Yeah, whatever."

I felt something bothering my upper lip, and I wiped away dried blood. My friend handed me some food, and I took it, eating it but not hungry.

"Why did you pass out?"

He asked, while I looked around. We're in the open, a cliff blocking us from one direction. We weren't in the same spot as before.

"Where are we?"

I didn't mean to ignore his question.

"Closer to our destination."

"How did I get here?"

"I carried you."

I nodded, not sure how I feel about that. His hands touched my body, his chest against my own…I felt a sensation creep up inside me. I don't know what it is, but it makes me itch between my thighs, and makes my breathing a bit heavier.

"Oh…"

Chewing a piece of food, I stare into the fire. What is this feeling? What…happened to me?

"You did not answer my question as to why you passed out."

I shook my head, feeling stupid.

"To be honest, I don't know. I just…remembered so much…"

"You did?"

His voice sounded hopeful…sounded…strange.

"Kind of. It was all a bunch of sounds, smells, colors and emotions. I guess my brain…couldn't take it all in."

"Perhaps you are closer to remembering."

I smiled. As much as my head was aching, and as annoying as this unknown feeling is, I remembered something more vivid than anything before.

"Charon was with me. I saw him beside me. Well, not _see_ but…I knew he was there."

"Yes. Tomorrow we will continue on to the tower. It will take less than an hour to reach it."

"Why can't we go now?"

He sighed, finished the rest of his food. I did too, but I'm not hungry.

"Traveling by night is not safe. You do not yet know how to shoot a gun."

"But, we're so close."

"Yes, we are."

Suddenly, the feelings came back. I couldn't contain them, and I groaned.

"Are you okay?"

I heard my friend ask, and I pulled my fingers through my hair. It was like someone was rubbing my entire body with soft hands, soft fingers. It was scary and pleasurable. I felt angry, warm, adventurous, and lustful all at once. Pictures, images of me laying in a bed pounded in my head. I could see the moonlight streaming in, and someone was on top of me. I could feel their kiss, their warm tongue against mine. I felt my hand scraping their back, and a crippling sense of satisfaction and desire. It was overwhelming, I could feel the bed under me, and I clutched my head, trying to see the figure kissing me.

Blinking, the memory faded, the emotions left me, and I let go of my head, digging my hands into the dirt.

"Can we go, now, _please_?"

I have to move. I have to keep going. I can't sit still. I have to chase away whatever this is.

"Dez, what is wrong?"

I looked up at him, angry, my eyes narrowing. I've never felt so angry before, never felt such a sense of urgency.

"Goddamnit Charon I want to _go now_!"

I yelled, my voice coming out rough, hostile, not my own. I clasped my hands over my mouth, my face dropping my eyes widening.

"I-I-I'm so sorry I…"

I shook my head, feeling all the emotions leaving me at once. I can't breathe, but I don't care. I felt hot tears in my eyes, and my fingers ran down the side of my face. My friend stared at me, bewildered, concerned.

"Dez…?"

He asked, as if he was approaching me for the first time.

"I-I don't know where that came from…I'm sorry…I thought…Charon..."

"Yes?"

It was like he was hopeful for something. He inched towards me, cautious. I backed away, scared. I don't know what the hell is going on.

"No, no I don't know can we go? Please?"

"Do you think I am Charon?"

A bold question, but I didn't hesitate to answer.

"No, I don't know where that came from. I'm sorry please, please let's go."

Grabbing my stuff, once I found where he put it, I strapped it to my back and shuffled away from him. He didn't bother to put out the fire, and as he caught up to me, it glowed behind us. Tears pushed in my eyes, but they wouldn't come out. I want them to. Damn I want them to. I want to cry this all out, I want to fall right here, and hit the ground with all my strength. I want to cry and moan and wail like there's no tomorrow. I have to run, though. I think if I keep moving, keep my body working, I won't feel anything. I won't feel the emotions, the urges, the pain of not knowing.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I felt my body being spun around. My eyes met with my friend's, milky white, against the glowing moon.

"Are you alright?"

He asked, holding my arms tightly. I looked up at him, fearful, but calm.

"Yes. Can we…please, just keep walking?"

Slowly, I watched as he nodded. As he let me go, I stole one last look into his eyes. Was that…sadness I saw? I watched closely as he began to walk in front of me, and I soon caught up next to him, trying to keep up. My head feels like a giant Super Mutant was dancing on it, and my body felt just as bad if not worse. All these sudden emotions, sudden intense images, it's all too much. I can't handle it.

But if I just keep moving, keep walking, I can get rid of them. No, wait. I don't want them to go, but I mean, I just can't deal with all of this right now. It happened so fast, so suddenly…

"Here."

I looked up to see my friend holding a lit cigarette in front of me. I took it from him, and he turned and kept walking. Placing the cigarette between my lips, I inhaled it deeply. Instantly, my nerves calmed, my body soothed, and I stopped shaking inside. I walked behind my friend, nervously sucking on my cigarette. I suddenly felt so sad…so confused. The emotions stopped, but they were still there, in the back of my mind, waiting for me to remember them again. I watched his back, watched him walk in the moonlight, and I reached towards him, but didn't touch him.

"Hey?"

He turned, glancing at me, before turning back around.

"I'm…sorry if I worried you."

"You did not."

"I mean, I just…got hit with a lot at once."

"Understandable."

I frowned, flicking ash off the tip of my cigarette. I wish he could see inside my mind. I wish he could help me remember. I want him to help me, I want him to know what I felt, I don't know why.

"What does it feel like, to have sex?"

I asked, and he stopped walking, letting me catch up to him.

"Why?"

It's a really strong question, I know, but I was having sex with the man above me in my memory. I know that much.

"Because…I remembered…having sex. I don't know with who, it was too dark. We were in a house, on a bed, I know that much. So it had to have been before I got hit in the head. It was…strong."

"Strong?"

"The emotions, I mean. They were…they were…it was like I loved him. Like I truly loved him, and would do anything for him. I could feel him kissing me, and I could feel my hands on his back, and I didn't want to let go."

I sighed, feeling the words escape. I clung to the necklace at my chest, closing my eyes. I have felt such a strong emotions for someone. Charon, it has to be. It has to be.

"I would imagine that is what sex would feel like."

It's overpowering, just thinking about it. Thinking about how I felt, how much I loved it.

"Have you had sex?"

"Once."

He said it so uncaring, so nonchalant.

"With your girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"Did it feel like…like I said?"

"Yes."

I blinked and looked at the dark ground. Brushing some hair from my eyes, I sighed loudly.

"You seem annoyed."

He said to me, and I nodded.

"I have all these feelings and images, but nothing to go by. No faces, no voices, nothing. It's…annoying."

I sniffed my nose, and wiped at it with the back of my sleeve.

"One day, Dez, I am sure you will remember it all, and it will all make sense."

Looking up at him, his profile was blurred by the tears in my eyes. I wiped them away with the back of my sleeve, too, and bit my lip. Tossing away my cigarette, I sighed loudly.

"I hope you're right…I do."

And I do hope. Every day since I woke up I've hoped it would all come back to me. Now, since I've been with this man, it has. There's something about him that just jolts my memory, that just makes it all come back. I wish I knew why. Maybe it's just the fact that I have a friend out here, that I have someone here who can talk to me like a person.

Sniffing my nose, I looked away from him. In the dark distance, not too far from us, a tower stood, reflecting off of the moon.

"Is that it?"

My friend nodded, and we walked in silence. The lights in the tower lit up so beautifully. It was like a beacon of hope in this depressing world. I smiled at it, it looks so pretty, so peaceful. We began walking down a steep hill, the rocks appearing last minute. To my shock, I found I could balance well on the slope, missing the rocks narrowly, and keeping my balance. I guess I'm better at this hiking thing than I thought. Suddenly, I felt the tip of my shoe connect with a well-hidden rock, and all was lost. The weight of my pack worked against me, and I felt my body propel forward.

People can bounce, did you know that? I just learned it, as I bounced off the ground until I hit the bottom. My face skidded against the dirt, and I laid there, face first in the dirt, groaning.

"Damnit!"

I moaned, wryly picking myself up. I heard my friend running behind me, and felt his powerful hand wrap around my frail arm. He clung to me, like he was saving my life for something, and pulled me to my feet.

"Are you okay?"

Blinking, I looked at him. Once our eyes met, he let my arm go, his imprint warm on my skin. It felt like a burn, a warm, warm burn.

"Uh, yeah…"

I said, dazed. Wiping the dirt off my face, I dusted the rest of my body off. I'm not hurt, just kind of sore from the fall. Looking around, I saw the tower behind my friend, and it was even bigger than I thought. I stared up at it, intimidated.

"Is your friend in there?"

I asked, pointing behind him. He turned, and shook his head.

"No."

Then where? I decided not to ask, and to just follow him. My knees hurt a bit, but that's okay. I let my mind wander, take me to a place I don't want it to go. This world is dark, and it's scary, and I don't like it very much, but its bearable. My friend makes it bearable. If not for him, I would have been dead by now I think. By hunger, exhaustion, or some evil creature sneaking up on me. It seemed with him, everything avoided us, everything strayed away. Maybe it's part of being a ghoul.

"May I see your wrist?"

He asked from nowhere, and I stepped up beside him.

"Uh, yeah."

We stopped walking, and I watched him work by moonlight. Gently, he took my old, bloodied wrist, and worked at the bandages. I watched his fingers moving by the light of the moon, tugging at them gently, slowly, peeling them off. It didn't hurt, and I thought it would.

"You are still bleeding."

He told me, after he had peeled away a few layers.

"I am?"

"Yes. I must keep pressure on the wound, so that you do not bleed out."

I watched him rewrap the bandages, the smell of blood pungent in my nose. He applied pressure on my arm while we wrapped it up, and I wondered…how does he know? Probably self-taught, from surviving so long out here. He gave me my wrist back, bandages replaced, blood keeping in my veins.

"When we are able, we will get you new bandages. Those may be prone to infection."

I wanted to tell him there was no need, that all I needed to do was stick my arm in radiation, but I didn't. I didn't want him thinking…thinking I was a freak or something. So I kept my mouth closed, and walked when he did. I cradled my wrist in my chest, and wished he hadn't let me go. When he touches me, it's like I feel alive. Like my body is reacting to him in a way that no other person has been able to bring out in me. Like an old friend, welcoming me back from a long trip.

If I could start again, I'd remember all of this. I'd remember not to go near whatever it was that hit me, and I'd stick by Charon. I'd find a way to make it all work, and I'd be a good person. Not the person Lucas told me about, but a better person, a newer one. Together Charon and I could travel the world, and see it all, holding hands in the process.

"Long time no see, asshole."

I heard someone say and I jumped. Looking up, I saw another ghoul leaning against a fence to the tower. I cowered behind my friend, fearful.

"Yes, it has been a long time, Roy."

My friend shook his hand. Roy, that's his name. He has a big gun on his back, and looks terrifying.

"You didn't tell me you were coming. Nor did you mention about a smoothskin accompanying you."

His tone struck fear in me, but at the same time, I felt…brave. Still, I hid behind my friend.

"It was a last minute decision. That is, if you still require my services."

"Sure do."

"Then we must make an agreement. I will help you in your endeavor, and you will provide my friend and I a place to stay, indefinitely."

The other ghoul lit up a cigarette and let out a hearty chuckle. Wait, did my friend just say a place to stay? Like a home? A real home? I wanted to ask, but didn't. This Roy ghoul gives me some bad vibes.

"A home in the Tenpenny Tower? We're trying to get the smoothskins out, not bring them _in_."

"It is the only way I will offer my services."

Roy grumbled something to himself, and glared at me. My friend changed his stance, and put a protective arm in front of me.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Make sure she stays out of our way."

I looked up to see my friend nod, and he seemed to relax, but he kept his arm in front of me.

"Are you going to debrief me on what our task at hand is?"

"Yeah, I guess. Come on, I'll take you back to our base. But I swear, if that smoothskin double-crosses us, I _will_ kill her."

My insides froze, and I looked up at my friend.

"There will be no need."

Roy shrugged and began to walk. I followed behind my friend, trying my best to keep my teeth from chattering. I am walking somewhere, with a ghoul who hates me and wants to kill me, and another who seems to want to protect me. I've never been more scared since I woke up. Nervously, I bit my lip and fumbled with my fingers. My friend noticed, and he looked back at me. Slowing down his pace, he walked beside me.

"Do not worry, Dez. I will keep you safe."

He whispered in my ear, his lips just centimeters from my skin. I felt a shudder run though my body, and I nodded. I trust him. I have no other choice but to trust him. If I try to run, they will chase me or worse, kill me. Even if I did get away, I would just be caught by something in the desert, killed by that. This is a catch-22 I found myself in.

We followed Roy to an old train station, and through a dark tunnel. I kept close to my friend, maybe too close, but I'm scared, shaking in my shoes. I think he noticed this because he didn't seem to mind my closeness to him. He just walked, as if nothing was going on, as if he was the toughest man alive. In my head, he is, and god I hope I'm right. The tunnels, they twist and turn, with just barrels of fire lighting the way. I hear familiar hissing of feral ghouls in the distance, and I jump.

"They will not harm you."

He says to me, strong, protective. I look up at him, accidentally bumping into his chest. For a second, it felt like my body was electric, that our bodies touching made some sort of spark, but it was in my mind. I mumbled a 'sorry' and stepped away from him, crossing my arms and keeping my head down. He didn't say anything back, but kept a close distance.

Roy let us to a town, it seemed like. A few ghouls walked around on a platform, muttering and talking amongst themselves, glaring at me. None of them spoke to me, but I knew what was on their minds. A smoothskin, Roy brought in a smoothskin, and smoothskins are bad. I can only imagine what they want to do to me right now.

I sat on an old foldout chair behind my friend while he and Roy talked about their plan. I heard bits and snippets, and gathered that they wanted to take out the residents of Tenpenny Tower. Apparently, it was filled with 'ghoul-hating bigots' and no matter what peaceful resolve Roy had offered, they declined. I'm all for finding a good home, and settling down and whatnot, but killing others for it? I can't quite stomach that. But I have to. I have to help them, with whatever task they need done.

My stomach churned as they talked, their plan becoming more and more detailed. I didn't play a part in it, which is good. They said tomorrow morning, they'd break down the barrier, and take everyone out. And if they're successful, which Roy truly believes they will be, my friend and I will get a suite apartment and be allowed to come and go as we please. Sure it sounds great, but…at what cost? I wanted to ask so many questions, but bit my tongue. I'm outnumbered, outmatched, and outgunned. There's no choice but to listen, and obey.

"Have a beer, smoothskin."

Roy said to me, and I looked up at him. He tossed me a beer, but I placed it beside me, shaking my head.

"No, no I don't drink, but thank you."

Roy scoffed and took a sip of his own drink. It was Whiskey. My friend held a beer in his hand, too, and every once in a while sipped at it. If they weren't scary, rotten monsters, I'd say they looked like two guys just sharing a drink.

"Prude little bitch, isn't she?"

My friend glared at Roy, his jaw muscles clenching. Why does this man, this ghoul, who knows nothing about me, care so much? Why did he save me, and take it upon himself to…to protect me?

"Her name is Dez. I do not appreciate the insults, Roy."

Roy shrugged and stood up. He unbuckled his belt, and gave us a ghoulish grin.

"Whatever. I got my own lady to tend to. Bessie Lynn!"

He lumbered off down the stairs, shouting for a 'Bessie Lynn'. I can only presume that that's his ghoul-lady girlfriend. Once he vanished, there was no one else but my friend and I. That's how I like it, though. There's only so much ghoul I can take. Maybe the old me would have slept with everyone in here, but that's not me. That's not me.

"Are you tired?"

My friend asked, and I blinked, looking at him slowly.

"I could lie down."

He motioned to a mattress against the near wall. There wasn't another one.

"Where will you sleep?"

I asked.

"Here, I suppose. You will take the bed."

I nodded, and walked over. Taking off my shoes, I sighed a deep breath of relief, and wiggled my toes in front of my face. It felt so good, to have something soft beneath me. Something that wasn't dirt, something comfortable and smooth. Even if it is dirty and smelly, it's _something_.

Laying down, I used my arms as pillows, and curled myself into a ball. I watched my friend as he silently drank his beer, glancing back at me every once in a while. Inside, I felt confused, but peaceful. I feel warm and safe, with him so close, watching over me.

"I have a question…"

I said, cautious.

"Yes? What is it?"

He sounds tired, exhausted. I shouldn't keep him up, but I'm so curious.

"Why…why did you save me?"

He stops sipping his beer, and places it on the table. He looks at it, carefully examining the liquid inside.

"I believe you have asked something similar to this recently."

"Well, then why do you want to keep me safe?"

"You remind me…of someone…"

"Your girlfriend, yeah, I think you told me."

He nodded, and I curled up a bit tighter.

"But what if she finds you, and you're with me. Won't she be mad?"

"I do not think so."

"I would be. If my boyfriend was with another woman, I'd be very upset."

"I am not 'with' another woman. I am simply traveling with you, so that you do not fall off a cliff and die."

I nodded, and looked up at the ceiling. In my mind, I tried to piece together an image of Charon. I tried to imagine him how he looked in my Pip-Boy, kissing me, holding me close, walking beside me, but I couldn't. I couldn't imagine him. It's so faded, but it's still here, present in my mind. My father…he's dead. He's dead and I don't even know what he looks like. I don't know who my mother is, I don't know if I have family out here or anything like that. All I know is somewhere out in this world, Charon exists.

"Charon…I hope he's thinking of me, and dreaming of me…"

I say softly, hoping my friend didn't hear.

"I am sure he is."

My friend says just as soft. Turning my head, I look at him, in the light of the burning barrels. I can see his outline, the rest is shaded by darkness, by shadow. It's a romantic setting, depressing, but romantic. I'm on a dirty mattress in a corner, in an empty room, with the glow and warmth of fire. My friend sits at an old table, in an old chair, looking at a bottle of beer, his arm outstretched, his body leaning back. My friend, do you think you could be the one that saves me? That saves my memory, and supports me, and helps me through all of this? Could you? Would you?

Shaking my head, I turn away from him, from the romantic and enticing scenery. I don't know what to do, other than follow him now. My life has changed so suddenly, so drastically, in less than a week it seems. One minute I'm safe in the Citadel, thinking I am with friends and family, and the next I am being chased out, discovering I come from…well I'm not sure, but it's not the Citadel. The vault. Vault 101. I have no family that I know of, no friends other than the mysterious man who helps me, and no one who knows me, other than those who hate me. I'm scared, and I'm lonely. Memories are coming back to me, and it's frightening, but I think I can do it. I think I can, if my friend stays by my side, to help me through all of it.

I hope he does. I hope one day I learn his name, and we can get along great, and laugh together.

"Are you asleep?"

I hear him ask, but I don't reply. I just lay there, my back to him, hoping he thinks I am. I'm too sad, too stuck in my mind, to talk.

"I miss her greatly…Dez. I have tried not to, tried to hate her in a sense, but I cannot. I hope one day, she returns to me, and can look at me the same once again."

He's talking his heart out, and I'm listening. He doesn't know it, but I hear him, and I'm sympathizing with him. I know how it feels, to lose someone you love. At least…at least he can remember that someone, though.

"I suppose only time will tell if she will come back to me. However I will not stop trying, stop fighting for her. One day, this will all become clear to you, and when it does, I will be beside you, and help you though whatever challenges you may face."

I hope so, my friend. I do.


	10. Kill, or be Killed

"Dez, wake up."

Rolling over, I opened my eyes and looked into my friend's. The fires had gone out, and the rooms was freezing. I rubbed my arms, drearily looking around, try to focus.

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No. Come."

He helped me to my feet, and handed me my pack. I put it on my back, yawning, cold, and tired. The mattress hadn't offered me a good sleep, and it stinks like burnt flesh down here. I have no room to complain, though. My ghoul friend had slept in a chair, that's worse than any old mattress, I guess.

Leading me down the stairs, I stuck close to him, following him through the twists and turns of the tunnels. He didn't speak, and I didn't ask any questions. Our feet, and a distant hiss every once in a while, was the only noise we heard. I tried to block out the hissing, tried to not let it bother me, but it was no use. Once it was in my ears, it rang, and made my whole body shake. I stepped closer to my friend, each time their cries echoed loud enough, and I closed my eyes, trying to block out the world. I hate it out here, it's horrible, it is.

I remained silent as he led me outside. He climbed up the small building that housed the door, reaching down to help me up.

"Why'd you wake me up so early?"

I said, yawning, stretching. He stood next to me on the roof, facing East. Crossing his arms, he looked off into the distance, and I saw the faint orange glow of the rising sun.

"Do you see what I see, Dez?"

Nodding, I held back another yawn and wiped some sleep from my eyes.

"It's the sunrise."

"Have you ever seen the sunrise over the Capital Wasteland?"

Thinking, I realize I hadn't. I was always asleep too late, or locked in the Citadel. I only ever saw the walls of that place, never anything outside of it.

"No…not that I can remember."

I watched the sun slowly peak over the sand and dirt, over the buildings, and I felt the first few rays of warms in my bones as it hit my flesh.

"I want you to understand something."

He said, and I nodded, but didn't look away from the sun.

"What?"

"Today, you are going to be faced with a task. Today you are going to witness death first hand, and hear the screams and cries of people begging for mercy. You will see the ugliness that has plagued this world, the death and torture. You will see pain, and watch families be torn apart. It will be the hardest thing you have ever witness since leaving the Citadel."

My heart froze, and I couldn't speak. I blinked, looked up at him, terrified.

"I want you to remember, that even though there is so much ugliness in this world, there are moments and scenes, that make up for it. There are times in lives, that are so filled with emotion and pleasure, we cannot compare them to anything, but simply acknowledge their existence, and move forward."

Staring at the rising orange globe, I swallowed hard. He's right. If…if they want to go on with what they talked about, then I'm going to have to help. I'm going to have to chase people from their homes, and fire a gun. I'll see death, for the first time since I've been out here. For the first time in my new life. I don't want to. I don't want to see it now, at all, or ever. I think in the past, I've seen it enough for me to last a lifetime, or two. I can just feel my insides shaking, churning, twisting with the thought of what I might have to see, what I have to take part in. I'm not ready for that.

"I…I can't do that…"

I said, feeling the warm glow wash over me. I'm sorry, but I can't. I just can't bring myself to hurt people. Sure, they may hate Roy and they may not like ghouls, but that's no reason to _kill_ them.

"Why?"

He asks me like it's a justified question. Like it was something people actually wondered about out here.

"Because I can't! They didn't do anything to me, and-and I don't even know how to shoot a gun, let alone _kill_ someone."

I glanced at him, and caught the look in his eyes. There was no comfort or safety, there was only the harsh, mean truth of reality.

"You have no choice. If you do not kill, you will be killed. You cannot walk around this world, expecting people not to harm you because you did no harm to them."

"Why?"

"It is unrealistic. People out here wish to survive, and they will do anything to do that. People aside, there are also insects and animals that will have no problem making a short meal of you."

He's right. There's no other way to deny it, no other way to say it. I don't like it, but there's no other truth. This is the world, it's cold and mean, and this is what I have to do to survive. If I don't help them, I have this strong feeling, Roy or him, will get me back for it. I don't know how, or why, but I do. My heart feels like a brick of lead, like someone's pulling at it, tearing it down and making it sink to the pit of my stomach. I glance over at the tower, frowning. All this, for a home? For shelter? Well, I guess I wouldn't want to live out my days in a sewer, anyways.

"If it makes it easier for you, I will stand by your side during the fight. I will protect you, and ensure that no harm comes to you."

I felt my fingers and hands shake. Just hearing him talk about it was enough to give me the jitters.

"I-I-I don't want to…I _can't_."

"Then you can allow yourself to fall victim to the feral ghouls. Or perhaps you would rather be shot by a Tenpenny citizen?"

I bit my lip. The sun was higher in the sky now, slowly climbing, slowly warming everything inside of me. Nodding, I agreed with him. I'll help, I have no other choice. I wish I did, though. It seems I'm wishing and hoping an awful lot, for something that doesn't come true. That doesn't seem to happen.

"Okay. I'll do whatever you need me to, I guess."

Sitting down on the roof, I let my legs dangle over the edge. I don't feel afraid of falling, I feel quite numb, actually. Agreeing to take part in a massacre does that to you, I guess. It makes you upset, and it hurts like hell on the inside. I don't know if I can do it. I'm a bit worried of getting hurt, but what other option do I have, really?


	11. So Sick of the Boundaries

(Charon)

For an instance, she became the person I once knew. She became Dez, the ace-shooter and expert marksmen. In between firing off my own rounds, I glance back at her, her hair wild and orange, with a tint of brown. The look in her eyes is undeniable to me. Amidst the pleas of mercy, the curse words, the blood spray, I stand with my back facing hers, protecting the person who once took me from Ahzrukhal almost a year ago. The noise of her double-barrel shotgun echoes louder than anything, even when she opens it to load more shells inside, I hear it.

She did not ask me to show her how to shoot. She did not request advice from me, or seek any hopeful words of comfort. Rather, when the battle was about to commence, she gripped the gun in her hands. I watched carefully, as her fingers ran down the barrel, over the wooden butt, and her fingers interlace with the trigger. It was as if she was reacquainting herself with it. Remembering a time when she once used it, and used it well.

It brings back memories to me, fond, admirable memories of us. The first shootout at Super Duper Mart flashes before my eyes, as I reload my gun with another drum. Her laughter, her smile, her manic look, it pierced through me, and I thought this woman would be the death of me. I smirk over it now, smirk, remembering. I want revenge for what the Brotherhood did to her. I see her move from the corner of my eye, catching a woman who tried to sneak past the two of us. I want her to love me as she once did.

"Look out!"

I yell, catching glimpse of a man last-minute. He crept up behind Dez, while I was busy with another citizen. The knife was in his hand, I saw it glisten in the light coming from a Glowing One. My shotgun left my hands, something I make sure it never does, and I grabbed the man's wrist. My training came back to me, as I swiftly hit him in all the right areas. Under my breath, I muttered the rhythm of the movements, the pressure points I was aiming for.

It was over faster than it had begun, but Dez stared at me, bewildered.

"Do not just stand there, _shoot_!"

Hearing my voice made her snap back, and she turned from me. It is a fast-paced fight. Even though there are many of us, there are twice as many of them. Feral ghouls and Glowing Ones run rampant between the floors and rooms, hissing, gnawing and clawing at anything that may move or run. I have to be extra careful, with Dez in my presence. She may be able to remember how to shoot, but that is solely based on muscle-memory. I do not trust that she will remember what to do, if faced with a hand-to-hand situation.

I catch her gaze. I spot her, looking up at me. Her eyes are wide with fear, her body covered and splattered in blood, the shotgun in her hand looks warm from the use. The moment excites me. It causes me to remember that within this pandemonium, aside from all else that exists in the world, the impossible happened. Out of pain, suffering and ruthlessness, something grew. It caused two people, two very different people, to shape and change one another. For the better? Possibly. Do I think it is true in my sense? No. Yet it happened. In the middle of the murder and blood, Dez found comfort in my presence, and I in hers.

Things that rare, hardly ever blossom, yet in the most impossible of circumstances, it did. It came out of everything bad, everything that is and was wrong with the world, and it created something beautiful. Against all odds, it grew, and with each event that we witnessed, with each cry of pain we muttered, it became stronger. Looking at her as we stand, paused beside one another, in a dark, long hall, I remember all of this. I remember it more vividly than I do anything else in my life, even the more recent of events.

I have watched this world fall and crumble. I have witnessed men of great strength and power crumble under the smallest of pressures. I have seen the most insignificant person achieve more greatness than the smartest man alive. I have watched the world fall apart, passed my gaze upon dying children, passing them and their dead mothers without the slightest inkling of compassion. I've seen society rebuild and prosper once more, and seen the horrors men of moral are capable of committing. Yet never, in my entire life, have I ever witnessed something so rare, so beautiful, blossom between two of the most unlikeliest of people. Never, have I witnessed the effects of how a person can move you, shift you, shape you into an entirely different being. Until, that is, I met Dezbe.

The world returns to me, and I take a shot at a man running past us. I am in my own mindset, my training is second now. My priority returns to protecting Dez, whilst still keeping a distance from her. I must continue on, as if I do not know her, as if we are nothing more than mere strangers traveling together. The months I have spent without her, I have spent in silence and solitude. People in Underworld have inquired more than once about our relations, but a grunt in their direction was all I allowed them to know. I did not enjoy hearing them whisper and talk. I am a cold-hearted bastard now, I am not the Charon she is beginning to remember.

While we make our way to the end of the hall, shooting, killing anything that moves, my mind reels of memories, of questions that for now will go unanswered. Will Dez still see me as the same Charon she once loved? Will she soon remember it was not some human, but I who held her late into the night, keeping her warm and safe from impending danger? Or rather, will she remember, yet find distaste and discomfort in what I have become? With her new persona, will she still have the ability to look past my outer appearance and see me as someone deserving of her time and love? This, I do not know. I have come to terms that upon her memory's return, she will act different towards me, and the romance we were blossoming will be different. I hope that she can remember, that she once looked for comfort and security in me. That once, a lifetime ago, she endured unimaginable things, just to return to my side, and that if not for me, she might not have survived.

A bullet bounces off of the metal plate I have covering my shoulder. I look ahead to see a man in a suit and hat, aiming gun directly at Dez. He is not faster than I am, and I shoot the gun from his hand, taking out most of his appendage. She will not be taken from me a second time. I will not allow it. Before I could take aim once again, Dez's shotgun rang in my ear like an echo in an hollow room. I watch the man die, bleeding from a gaping hole in his torso.

"Bastard…"

I hear her mutter, and look down. No one else is left. I see the ghouls on the floor below, hissing at one another, walking around in their crippled body. I spy Roy Phillips entering the elevator, Bessie Lynn close in tow. Seeing her follow him angers me. Roy is a bastard, a rotten prick and quite the revenge-seeker. I have no room to judge another, yet I find myself judging him. Not by his words or actions, but by the way he treats that woman. Roy does not see how much Bessie Lynn cares, nor does he realize how lucky he is. Having a woman out here, is a privilege, not a right. Women will naturally care for a man, care for their injuries and nurse them. Being without the kind voice and softness of Dez has made me realize and understand the importance a woman plays in a man's life.

Dez stands beside me, strapping her gun to her back and crossing her arms. She avoids my eyes, looking at everything but me.

"Shall we go ask Roy for our apartment?"

I say 'our'. It brings back memories of Megaton, of Rockopolis, warm memories, ones I wish I could relive. Dez's eyes meet my own, and I see they are flooded with emotion.

"Yeah…I guess."

I want to take her into my arms, and kiss her everywhere. I want to tear off her clothes and make her pain go away, replace it with the pleasure she felt so long ago. So long ago, in that old, abandoned house.

"Is something troubling you?"

I ask, leading her to the stairs. We are halfway down, before she speaks.

"I…don't feel anything. Killing those people…didn't…it didn't make me sad."

"Oh?"

I inquire, stopping on a step to allow her to catch up. She jumps down, standing next to me, staring off into space.

"It just…made me…think of things I guess. I remembered how to do it, that worried me, but then I realized it was once a _part_ of me. Knowing that, I guess it made it all easier."

"I see."

She looks at me. I remember the girl who used to look at me, hoping love would never fail, hoping that hope was real. I have nothing to say.

"Do you think…"

We begin to finish out downward climb on the stairs, and she bites her lip. Her sentence is left unfinished, her words left hanging in midair. I lead her to the elevator, and press the button. Together we wait, in silence, the stench of death stalking us in the darkness.

"Do you think that Charon would have let me be a 'ghoul whore'?"

Her question is not one flushed with pain, but there is a sense of curiousness to it. I sigh heavily, looking at her up and down while she stares at the elevator. Her skin is still milky white, translucent almost. The sleeves of her Brahmin Skin Outfit, the one I have given her, masks the sun from tanning her. I can only see her skin, by the holes in it, by the way she bends her neck, exposing it to me.

"In my honest opinion, I do not think Lucas was entirely truthful in all of his explanations."

Her head snaps in my direction, the elevator doors open, and we step inside. She does not take her eyes from me, as I press the button, and allow the doors to close.

"So…so you think he was lying?"

"Yes."

Her gaze drifts around the room. I want to tell her it is me, I am Charon. I want to tell her she was only with me, and looked at everyone else with distaste and distrust. Yet I feel doing that, may ruin any chances I may have of her properly remembering me. If anything else, when her memory returns, she will still love the idea of me, if not me. Will she love a monster still? I do not know.

"Charon loved me a lot, I think."

I hear my name and instinctively look down at her, a bit too quickly. I must stop doing that. However she is not looking at me, but at the necklace, _my_ necklace, that rests in her hand.

"Yes."

She tucks it back into her shirt, and waits silently. The doors open, and together we step out. A few dead feral ghouls lie scattered around, along with a few dead humans. Roy is close, I can sense him. He is not a man of silence, and he is certainly not a man of stealth. His scent is fresh, hanging in the air, almost masking the stench of death and blood. Dez follows close behind me in the darkness, I can hear her heavy breathing in the silence.

"I think…he's dead."

"Who?"

I ask, coming to a door. Pressing it open, I am greeted by the moonlight shining on plants, illuminating the room, giving it an eerie glow.

"Charon. Or else he would have found me by now."

"Do not give up so easily."

I open a door, and am surprised to find myself looking outside. Atop a balcony, peering over the Capital Wasteland as if I am a god. Dez does not follow me out, and I turn around.

"Are you coming?"

I ask her. Roy appears beside me, he knows what I came for.

"Here."

I watch him take a shot of Whiskey, and hand me the key to my new apartment. The look he gives me tells me that he wishes to speak to me. Turning back to Dez, I hand her the key.

"I will meet you there. Do not worry, it is safe."

Her hands clasp around the key in my fingers. I feel her hands graze mine, a familiar shudder runs down my back.

"I know. I'm…not scared anymore…anyways."

She finally accepts herself. At least, I believe she does. She is no longer fearful of the unknown, she understands now she can kill, and feel nothing from it. I watch her turn her back, giving me a sad smile. She walks into the moonlight, and I sigh. Beautiful, still is, always will be.

Closing the balcony doors, I turn towards Roy. Bessie Lynn is not present. It is just us, and I know he has many questions. I take the beer he hands me, but simply sip at it. I do not drink often, if at all.

"You brought her here."

Roy says, annoyed.

"I have no other choice."

He snorts, shaking his head side to side.

"Charon, we can't _trust_ her."

"Why?"

Roy lights two cigarettes, offering me one. I enjoy smoking after shooting, it relieves my muscles, relaxing me.

"Before I'd have no problem with that human romping around here. Now she's Brotherhood incarnate. She could be working for them."

"She is not, I can assure you."

"Thing is, I _know_ she can't remember jack shit."

"Yes, I was meaning to ask just how you managed to hear of that."

Roy looks at me, a scoffing look on his face.

"Hard not to hear. She went to Lucas Simms in Megaton, and I picked up word through traders, and Quinn. I figured by the way she acted, she doesn't remember you, either."

"She remembers me. She just does not know it is me."

"How is that possible?"

"She remembers a Charon. She knows of her relations with him, but she is still unaware it is me."

"_Everyone_ knows, Charon. Everyone knows where she is, now. They're going to come looking for her, and I'm not having some fuckin' smoothskins taking back what I've just fought for."

"I do not think the Brotherhood is looking for her."

"Tune in to Three Dog once in a while, hear the word. They're looking, and they're pissed."

"Then kill them on sight."

I throw my cigarette off the balcony, and walk away from Roy. I do not inform him of Gunny, nor do I tell him of how Dez came to be this way. I simply leave, closing his balcony doors behind me. If the Brotherhood are in fact looking, they will send Gunny. I can only imagine by now he has confessed to his attachment to her, and I do not want her reminded of him. I will kill him myself, if given the chance.

Entering my apartment, I spy Dez's things laying on the bed. The lights have not yet been turned on, and it is dark. I do not see Dez anywhere in the darkness, but a slight, cool breeze brushes my bare arm. Looking over the room, I see a door, slightly open, on the far side of the room. I have my own balcony, I presume.

My feet feel heavier, as I take soft, slow steps towards the cracked door. Thoughts race through my mind, I wish I could block them out. The sensation of Dez's skin against my own makes my skin tingle, makes whatever hair I have left rise up on end. I have gone so long without her. I have spent so many nights mourning her, wishing I could have done something for her. I have hated myself, day in and out, for allowing the Brotherhood to take her from me. Yet I knew then, and I know now, that even with my training, I would not have been able to fight everyone in the Citadel.

I open the door wider, quietly staring at her. The moonlight reflects off her skin, and wisps of smoke swirl above her head. I hear her inhale on a cigarette, and examine her, the moon and stars shining. If she only remembered me, I would be able to take this moment, make it my own.

"Dez?"

I say, and she jumps a bit, turning towards me. She smiles slightly, before turning back, leaning against the rail and looking out at the barren desert. Outlines of old highways stand in the distance, old houses can be seen if looked for carefully. I stand behind her, a few feet separating us.

"Do I have to go now? Since this place is yours?"

"No. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish."

"I don't know how to live on my own."

"Then stay. Stay until your memory returns."

It feels like I am pleading with her. I never begged, I do not beg, it is not who I am. Even now, even then, it has never been a part of my being.

"You've done so much for me…and I don't even know your name."

I say nothing. There is nothing I can say. The wind blows, it is cold, but Dez makes no movement.

"I think…I should stay. It's…safe here. I can wait for Charon."

I _am_ Charon. I step closer to her, unaware of my movements. I do not want to make her uncomfortable, but it has been so long. My body is no longer listening to my mind, I cannot help myself.

"That would be best."

I say to her, closing my eyes. I want her to stay with me, to be safe here, in the tower. I will lock her away, until she can remember. Until she can look at me once again with those big, doe eyes. I anticipate hearing her say my name again, hearing it flushed with such pleasure as it was the one night we were together.

"Will you ever tell me your name?"

She asks, her voice soft, smooth. I feel my tee shirt rubbing against my chest, as I try to calm my own racing heart. I take another step forward, closing the gap between us. If she turns around, her face will be in my chest. She can sense my presence, I can feel it.

"In due time."

I place my hand on her shoulder, gentle, as I do not want to frighten her. She does not react to my touch, but simply smokes, as if she does not care.

"I wish you would now."

"No."

I stoke her arm, and place my opposite hand on her other arm. Gently, I grip her muscles in my hand, rubbing them, massaging them. She does not move, she stays still, and I lean in, her hair brushing my face.

"Am I making you feel uncomfortable."

"…No."

I sigh, relieved. She leans back, pressing into my chest.

"I feel safe. I know you wouldn't hurt me, cuz you would have by now."

"You are right."

I wrap my arms around her body. Her curves are so familiar, as my forearms press against her breasts. It feels as if she has never left me, as if she has always been by my side.

"Do…do you think I slept with ghouls?"

"I do not know. I did not know you."

I lie. She has. She has lain with me. With only me. No other ghoul has touched her, aside from Gob. No other man, aside from Butch, has laid with her.

"Does Roy?"

"No."

Again, a lie. Everyone has heard of her, every ghoul in this tower, every person in the Wasteland. I do not tell her the truth, I do not want anyone to tell her. She needs to remember on her own. I lower my head, her ear grazing my cheek. Her neck is so close to my lips, they tingle with anticipation.

"I guess you want something for saving me, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

I say quietly. This is intimate, or it would be, if she only remembered.

"I mean…you want something for…for saving me. Lucas…said I slept with ghouls…"

I understand. I know what she is getting at. My body wants to take advantage of the situation, yet my mind is telling me otherwise. It tells me to wait, to be patient. I feel conflicted.

"I am not sure."

"Charon wouldn't know…I guess. He's probably not even looking for me…"

Lowering my head, I move closer to her neck. I feel my own breath against my face as it bounces off of her neck. I feel her shudder in my arms, I feel the light of the moon dancing off of us. I do not know what I should do. I do not know if I should...

"Dez…"

I sigh, closing my eyes. I try to imagine she is the woman I once knew, try to pretend she is just as eager as I am. My lips press down against her neck, her skin smooth, warm against my own flesh. My mind screams at me, tells me to stop, that I am not doing what is right. I must listen.

Pulling away from her, I storm away from the balcony, storm into the apartment, slamming the door behind me. It is angering, to be in this situation. It enrages me, forces me to feel such confusion. I cannot stand it, I cannot tolerate it. Yet I must. For her sake, for the sake of her ever retuning to me, I must.


	12. Fire in Her Soul

My entire body felt…felt like it was on fire. He got so close, so _close_. I thought he was going to try something, do something, but he didn't. Once he said my name it was like something inside me moved. I didn't want him to stop, but I was so damn scared. What's wrong with me?

When the shooting began…I wasn't scared. It was almost as if I _enjoyed_ it. I could see them running, hear them scream, but I didn't _care_. Even when it was all done, when the killing and shooting finished, I didn't feel anything. Actually, I felt satisfied. I felt like…like I was supposed to kill them. I wasn't scared, I was filled with this familiar feeling of…ease. I guess Lucas was right, I am, or was, a merciless and cold blooded killer.

My friend doesn't know if I slept with ghouls. He says he doesn't know, but when he touched me, it was so…so simple. Like I would feel if Gunny or Sara touched me. I was scared, though. I thought he would do something. Wrapping my hand around the necklace under my shirt, I looked up at the moon. I want to remember, so badly. Charon, who are you? What did we share together?

The memory of us in bed, the emotions, it plays in my head but no matter how hard I try, I can't remember him. I can't see his face, or anything like that. All I can feel is the uprising of emotions inside of me, emotions I want to feel again. I can hear my friend storming around the apartment. For some reason, he's angry. I wish I knew why.

Turning around, I walked back into the dark room. I saw the outline of my friend sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. I frowned. I wanted to hug him, care for him, and make him happy.

"Are you okay?"

I ask as I walk over and sit next to him.

"…Yes."

"You don't seem okay."

"It is…complicated."

I frown again. Running my fingers through my hair, I look at the Pip-Boy on my wrist.

"Anything I can do?"

"No."

Sighing, I bring the screen to my face. I haven't quite figured out how to work it yet. It seems really hard and complex. I tinker with some buttons, pressing down on them in no random order. Suddenly, it lights up, bright, illuminating the room in a soft, green glow.

"Light!"

I say, happy. I didn't know it had a light on it. My friend doesn't say anything, but he picks his head up. I glance at him, waving my wrist around and smiling.

"We don't have to be in the dark."

He looks at me, and I think there's sadness in his eyes. I stop waving my arm around, and look at my feet. He doesn't have to say it, I know what's coming.

"You're leaving me, aren't you?"

"…Yes."

My heart sinks. It falls to the pit of my stomach, and doesn't come back up.

"Why?"

"I will return in due time. There are things I must take care of."

The bed creaks as he stands. In the glow of my newfound light, I watch him gather some things, and strap his gun to his back. He says nothing, doesn't even look at me, and simply walks out the door. I'm alone again. What did I do? Tears rise up in my eyes, but they don't come out. They never do. I sniff my nose, looking around the room. Everyone seems to leave me. My dad, Charon, Gunny, now my friend. Whose going to take care of me? I'm just a kid. I'm just a nineteen-year-old girl. I have no friends, and I don't know how to survive out here. Now I'm stuck, in an apartment in a building ridden with ghouls.

Where are you, dad? I know he's dead, but, he's got to be watching over me, right? What about my mom? Is anyone out here looking over me, making sure I'm safe and sound? No. Gunny didn't even care what happened to me, he just shoved me out here with no information or means of survival. I can't even close my eyes and search for comforting memories because I don't remember. I can't remember if anyone ever sang to me when I was little, held me close, or ever said everything would be okay. I can't remember a goddamn thing. All I have to go by about myself, are things people tell me, and blurred images coupled with emotions.

The only times I've remembered anything was when my friend was with me. It's the only time my mind seems to work, when he's around and talking to me. When we're walking together and he's silent beside me. It might sound crazy, and maybe he has nothing to do with it, but around him I feel okay. I feel like everything will work out for the better. He can't leave.

Getting up, I ran for the door. My Pip-Boy lit up the hall as I stood, looking for him outside my apartment. I heard the sound of the elevator doors opening, and I turned the corner. I saw my friend step inside of it, and I called out.

"Hey! Wait!"

He looked up at me, but didn't say anything. He stared at me, and I ran towards him. I didn't go inside the elevator, and when the doors were about to close, I pushed them back open. They slid back into their slots without any hassle. I stared at him, my eyes covering and blurring up with tears.

"You can't go."

"…Why?"

I bit my lip, shaking all over.

"Because…because I'll die without you. Because…because…because when I'm around you…my head, it works. It _works_. I can remember sometimes."

"I am sure you will remember regardless."

"I'll remember you left me. I'll remember this."

I pleaded with him through foggy eyes. I sniffed my nose, and felt the clothes he gave me to wear hang loosely around my body. My heart raced in my chest, begging my body to convince him to stay.

"Yes, you will."

"Please, please. I don't know you, I know nothing about you, hell I don't even know your _name_. But you can't go. I feel…I feel safe around you. I can't explain it but…but it's just clearer…please don't leave me."

There's nothing else I can do. I don't know where he's going to go, and I don't know why he's leaving. All I know is that if he goes, I'll be alone. I won't remember anything, and I'll be stuck here. I'll be stuck, forever wandering this place, this world, alone. I won't have anyone to talk to me, or anyone to help me remember. Granted my friend isn't the most charismatic person in the world, but he's _something_. He _cares_. That's more than I can say about anyone else in my life.

"I have things I must take care of."

"Then take me with you. Please. I won't complain or cry if I get hurt, just please, don't leave."

I fell to my knees. I don't even know why, or how, but I felt the hard tile flooring below me. The carpet pressed against the fabric of my clothes, and I covered my face with my hands. Fresh, new, salty tears streamed down my face, smothering into my palms. I've never cried before, I never could. I can now, I'm crying now. I almost laughed, I couldn't believe it, but I didn't. I just sat there, sobbing uncontrollably, my face getting soaked.

"Stand up."

I looked through my fingers at my friend. He stepped out from the elevator and wrapped his hand around my arm. Without gentle force, he lifted me to my feet. He didn't look at me, he looked away from me, past me, above me.

"I-I-I d-d-don't k-k-know what t-t-o s-s-say."

I stammered, wiping my face as fast as I could. It didn't do me any good, my face was still wet, and I didn't have any luck drying it.

"Come."

He said, tugging on my arm. No, I don't _want_ to go anywhere. I want to stand right here, right here and cry.

"I-I-I know w-what I want t-to s-say but I d-don't know h-h-how."

He sighed, letting go of my arm.

"If you do not come with me, I will leave."

So I followed him. In the dim lighting of my Pip-Boy, I followed him, crying, back to our apartment. He closed the door behind me, and I walked over to the bed. Sitting on it, I used the blanket to wipe my face free of tears. I've never cried before. It's new to me. I can taste the salt from my tears on my lips, and feel lighter, as if I needed to cry. I know I've wanted to, to get it out, but I didn't know it actually worked.

"What is it you wish to say?"

He stood against the wall in front of me. His arms were folded, and he looked off into the distance. It was like I didn't even exist.

"I don't know."

I said in one big breath. He blinked and looked at me. Looked at my messy face and even messier hair.

"Perhaps you should take a hot shower and rest for the night."

"You won't be here when I wake up."

He nodded, agreeing in a way. I bit my lip, feeling another wave of tears coming at me. For some reason, I pushed them back. I didn't want them to come out. I looked at my friend, my eyes filling, but I didn't let them come out. I have to be strong and brave. I don't know why, but I _have_ to be.

"You can't just leave me, please."

Finally, he looked at me. He saw the tears in my eyes, saw my still-wet cheeks, and saw how upset I was over his departure. I watched as thoughts flashed over his eyes. My seemingly unemotional friend, has emotions.

"I…do not feel I can stay."

I pouted, leaning in towards him.

"_Please_. I have no one else."

"You do not even know my name."

"I would if you would _tell_ me. I want to know you, but you won't let me."

He cast me a look I couldn't figure out. He seemed sad, distant, like I was someone he once knew. He said I reminded him of his girlfriend, maybe in his eyes he was missing her. I stared at him, waiting for his reply. He gave me none.

"Would you leave your girlfriend out here? Alone?"

"No."

"Then why leave me?"

"Because you are not her."

I closed my mouth, a bit shocked. Hearing that really bothered me for some reason, don't ask me why. It's just another thin I don't know and have no idea of.

"So…because I don't mean anything to you…means my life is expendable. Go figure. Didn't know people out here were _that_ cruel."

"That is not the case."

"Then what is it then? Huh?"

I felt angry. Everyone has left me. I have nobody and the only person who spent any time with me wants to leave. I don't want him to leave. I don't want him to go and take my memories away. I have no other friends and I can't trust anyone else like I can trust him.

"You do not understand."

"Then _make_ me understand."

"It is not that easy."

I threw my hands up in frustration. Slamming them down on the bed, I stood up walking away from my friend.

"You're so fucking _frustrating_! I can't believe this! I don't know jack shit about anything out here and here you go up and leaving like someone lit a fire in your ass! You…you're _insatiable_! I've been nothing but nice to you, and here you put your own dirty laundry before mine!"

I waved my hands as I paced around, stomping the floor with my feet and acting like an all out maniac. Ask me if I care anymore, though.

"You do not know what you are saying, Dez."

"There's a lot of things I don't know! A lot of things people don't tell me or lie about! How the hell am I supposed to just _know_ things, huh? I can't just _assume_ them! I woke up with everyone around me, lying to me, asking me questions I didn't know the answers to. Now, the same shit is happening. I can't even trust my own goddamn mind, let alone you."

"Then you should not be so upset over my departure."

I smirked, and looked at him over my shoulder.

"Then go. Be like everyone else, be like my father, Charon, and all the other friends I never had. Leave. I won't stop you. You're nothing but a rotten ghoul anyways."

I looked away, crossing my arms. I'm mean, I guess. I've never felt so angry and mean before. Maybe it's a part of who I was, and the anger and knowing of being alone brings it out. It wouldn't be a bad thing anymore, if I remember who I am. I could survive on my own then, and never really have to worry.

"You are acting irrational."

I spun around, anger seething out of my eyes.

"_I'm_ acting irrational? You're going to leave me stranded here and _I'm_ the irrational one!"

"You will not be in any danger if you stay. I will return to you."

I let my face soften. I stared at him, helpless.

"When will that be? I don't know anyone here…"

"Bessie Lynn will be kind towards you. Roy will not lay a hand on you, neither will anyone else in this building. I will make sure of that. For now, Dez, you must allow me to take care of my own business. Trust in the fact I will return."

"When, though, when?"

"In time. No more than three weeks."

Alone for three weeks. By myself, on my own.

"How am I gonna eat?"

"There is a kitchen on the ground floor."

"What about…if I get lonely?"

"There are people present to speak with you. Do not act foolish."

I pouted, staring at him. I guess there's really nothing I can do at this point. I give up. At least he told me he's coming back. I don't know if anyone's ever come back before, and I don't know if he really will, but I have to trust him. Something inside tells me I can, and I have no other choice. He's going to leave me anyways, might as well let him leave with hope, rather than feeling sad.

"Okay…as long as you come back…"

He kicked himself off of the wall and walked over to me. I didn't look up at him, but looked at the floor below me. I saw his boots enter my eyesight, but I didn't look up. I don't want to look up.

"I will return as quickly as I can. I can assure that you will be safe here, so long as you stay and do not wander off."

I nodded, wiping my nose.

"I will return, Dez."

"You've said that."

"Look at me when I'm talking to you."

I picked my head up and stared up at him. He's tall, really tall, and he's really scary, too. But not to me, not anymore. Now I don't even see him as a ghoul. I just see him as my friend. My friend whose trying to make my life a little bit better, and getting tons of abuse in return for it.

"I must go now. I suggest you shower, and rest."

"Okay."

I don't know what I expected from this. I didn't expect him to just turn and leave so abruptly like he did. I wanted something more, I guess. Not sure what, but…it felt empty and open when he didn't do anything. When he just turned away and walked out the door, closing it quietly behind him. I stood there, in the dim darkness with just my Pip-Boy. My friend is gone, and I don't know where he's going or why. I'll listen to him, though. I'll shower, and I'll rest, and I'll wake up tomorrow and try to make it a good day. I miss him more than I should, and I hope he comes back soon. He's the only sane thing in my head right now. He's the only constant I've ever seemed to have.


	13. Make You Feel Smittener

It's been a week since my friend left. I made new friends, though. Bessie Lynn is really nice, she likes to talk to me and play with my hair. We get along for the most part. Actually, that's kind of all the friends I've made, really. I talk to Roy whenever he comes to see Bessie Lynn, but he doesn't like me too much. He always gives me this weird look, like he knows something I don't, like there's something wrong with me. We never say more than ten words to one another, though.

But there's this really big thing that's been eating at me. A couple of nights ago, I was in my room just sitting on my bed trying to remember my dream. I know that's crazy but I've been dreaming of…memories lately. It's like my life is showing itself to me in my most vulnerable state of mind. It's hard to remember them, but sometimes I do. Like my dad. I remember what he looks like now. I remember how he died. I don't want to talk about that, though.

So I was laying in my bed, just doing nothing, and Roy knocks on my door. I let him in, and all he does is take one quick look around. He asked me if I was having any trouble with anyone, and I told him no. Then he left. Like nothing happened. He just left. I didn't think much of it, but then I remembered what my friend told me. He said he'd make sure no one hurt me, that I was safe. I figured he dropped word to Roy before leaving. Even when my friend is gone, I feel safe. I feel like someone's looking out for me.

I still get lonely. My head still hurts if I try too hard to remember, and I still feel like there's something I'm missing. I miss my friend more than I should, I'm all too aware of that. Sometimes….sometimes my dreams get really bad, and I wake up looking for him. I cry when I don't find him, I cry until I remember reality, and then I stop. Sometimes I wake up and call out for Charon, but he's not here, either. It hurts inside when I think and remember my friend isn't here with me, so I try not to think about it. I busy myself by walking around the grounds of Tenpenny Tower, and making small talk with the residents. I keep my hands busy by playing with Bessie Lynn's decorations she has in her shop, and I let her play with my hair and brush it out. I listen to her stories of her life, and for a little while I can forget my own story.

I don't feel like seeing Bessie Lynn today, or walking around the grounds of the tower. Today I feel like laying in bed with my balcony door wide open. Sometimes I go out there and try to see if I can find my friend walking home in the distance, but I never do. It's always just some random people, a few animals, nothing important. Today, and for the past two days, I haven't felt like doing that. I just want to stay in my bed, curled in my blankets, and sleep until I can't sleep anymore.

Burying my head in the soft pillows, I hear a knocking at my door. It's probably Bessie Lynn, I bet she's worried.

"Come in."

I yell, and take the pillows off of my head. My door opens, and I see Roy walk in. He's worried, I can tell by the look on his face. Moreover, Roy _never_ comes to my apartment. Just that one time.

"You have a visitor, kid."

He grumbles. He's holding his gun close to him, but not at me. I look him up and down, confused. Who would want to visit me? Who even knows I'm here? I blink slowly, trying to register it in my brain. Then I think, and I think of Charon. Maybe he found out I got out, and found where I' staying. It has to be him, it just has to be.

"Okay."

I say, jumping out of my bed. Pushing past Roy, I hit the button on the elevator impatiently. Roy came up behind me before the doors could open, and I felt my entire body stiffen up. He was standing too close for comfort, too close.

"This is the exact reason why I didn't want you here, smoothskin."

He hissed in my ear, hardly above a whisper.

"W-what?"

I stammered. I don't have my friend. I have no protection.

"The goddamned Brotherhood are here, and they're gonna be askin' questions on where the _real_ residents of Tenpenny Tower yet."

Brotherhood? They're _here_? I think that scared me more than having Roy standing so close to me. The elevator doors opened, and Roy and I stepped in. I don't care how close he is to me anymore, I just want to know why the Brotherhood are here. I want to know what they want with me. Do you think they've come to kill me? Come to…to take me back to the Citadel? No, no that's not right. They wanted me out, why would they come to put me back in? Where's my friend…he said he'd be back…he has to keep me safe…

Stepping out of the elevator, I looked around the lobby. Michael, one of Roy's friends, paced around a Brotherhood Knight, his gun in hand and finger itching for the trigger. Behind me, I heard Roy cock his gun and I looked back at him.

"Told your _friend_ I'd keep you safe. Don't worry, ain't gonna shoot you. Even though everyone here knows I want to."

I swallowed hard, but nodded. The Brotherhood Knight looked at me, but didn't make any movement to walk towards me. I noticed they were unarmed, only having their Power Armor. I'm sure Roy's goons stripped them of all their weapons before allowing access. I walked up to the Knight, and crossed my arms in front of me, putting up a fake front and keeping distance.

"What do you want?"

I meant to say it strongly, but it came out meek and quiet. I watched as the Knight lowered his head to take off his helmet. Damn near fainted.

"Gunny!"

I yelled, and threw my arms around his neck. Never have I ever been so happy to see someone in my entire life. Sure, I'm angry at how he just tossed me out here in nowhere land, but how long has it been since I've seen a friendly face? Let alone a _human_ face. He wrapped me in his arms, lifting me up into the air, the Power Armor helping him.

"I've been so worried about you Dez."

He said, setting me back on the ground. I let him kiss me, for old times' sake, and felt his gloved hand against my cheek. I couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Gunny-I-how-I-mean…how did you find me?"

I ran my fingers through my hair, smiling at him like a maniac. I was so excited, I stuttered over my words. Gunny looked around the lobby, wryly eyeing the ghouls.

"Dez…can we talk somewhere in private?"

He whispered, holding his helmet in his hands. I looked at Michal and Roy, biting my lip. Roy won't like this, not one bit, but…but he can't hurt me. My friend told him not to, at least, I hope he won't.

"I uh, guess. Come on."

I smiled at Michael, but he didn't smile back. When I turned to lead Gunny to the elevator, Roy was standing with his gun aimed.

"Where do you two smoothskins think you're goin'?"

"Roy, he's just here to talk."

"Bullshit. Where there's one there's twenty. I ain't givin' up my home."

I looked at Gunny.

"I'm here alone. No one followed me I can assure you of that."

Roy glared at us, glared at Gunny. Finally, he lowered his weapon, and let us climb on the elevator. There was something in Roy's eyes that told me he was upset with something else, something more than just Gunny being here. I don't know what that could be, but it bothered me. Kind of like the look you get when you disappoint someone who really cares about you, and instead of yelling they just quietly walk away. I wished Roy would have yelled at me, and I don't know why.

When the doors closed in front of us, Gunny was all hands. I was so happy to see someone, that I didn't mind. I let him kiss me, I let him fondle me, and I didn't even mind that his Power Armor was digging into my skin. It's been so long since anyone's given me any attention, comfort-wise, that I didn't care. I just wanted to feel like it was all okay. Kissing him still felt the same, like it was wrong, and I was hurting someone somewhere. But, if Gunny could find me, Charon could too. Difference being, Gunny wanted to, I guess.

The elevator doors opened, and Gunny let me go. He ran his fingers through his short hair and smiled sheepishly at me. I smiled back, a bit embarrassed.

"So uh, this your floor?"

I nodded, and led him out.

"Do they like, _force_ you to stay here?"

He asked while we walked down the hall to my apartment.

"No. My friend and I helped getting them in here. They gave us an apartment."

I stopped at the door, smiling proudly. For some reason it meant a lot to me to show Gunny I could be self-sufficient. I let us in, and Gunny looked around the room.

"Wow…uh, big room."

"Yup, and it's all mine! Well, sort of. I live with someone else, but he's not here now."

"He?"

I nodded, then quickly saw the look on Gunny's face.

"No, not like that Gunny, jeez. He's a ghoul. He kind of saved my life…"

The way my voice toned sounded like…like I was soft for the ghoul.

"What's his name?"

Looking at Gunny, I got suspicious. His face seemed worried, more worried than normal. Like something bad was going to happen.

"I…don't know. He won't tell me."

"You don't remember anything, do you?"

I shook my head and sat on my bed. Gunny came and sat beside me, his armor making the bed groan loudly. Sighing, I felt Gunny rub my knee with his hand.

"No. I mean, I remember some things, but…they're just blurry images with lots of emotion and crap."

I didn't tell him I remembered my father. That I remembered how he died. How there were men in Power Armor there. I keep that to myself. I don't want anyone to know, really.

"I'm sorry, Dez."

Looking at Gunny, I smiled. Our reunion is bittersweet. It made me think of Charon, and made me happy to see a face I knew and recognized.

"Why'd you come here? How'd you find me?"

"That doesn't matter, Dez. What matters is you're safe. I want…I want you to come with me."

Cocking an eyebrow, my instincts told me not to trust him all the way. I pulled back from him a bit, wry.

"Where?"

"Home, Dez. Home to the Citadel."

I blinked slowly at him. Is he serious? Didn't they chase me out? Didn't they basically kick me out? Shaking my head, I looked away from him.

"No, Gunny. I can't do that."

"Why?"

Is he really that stupid?

"Because…you…they…I just can't."

His arm wrapped around my shoulder, and he pulled me close to him. His Power Armor was warm from the sun, and I closed my eyes. He rubbed my back, kissing the top of my head. There was something wrong, though. He seemed uneasy, uncomfortable. Wrapping my arms around his torso, I buried my head in his chest piece and sighed.

"I'm just happy you're alive, really."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I've been really worried about you. But hell, I always knew you could do it."

I smiled. Someone had hope for me. Even if it was just Gunny, it's better than nothing. Looking up at him, I picked my head up from his chest, and smiled. Gunny smiled back, and leaned down for a kiss. I let him kiss me, just like I had in the elevator. I let him grope me and do all the things I never let him do in the Citadel. Piece by piece, his armor clanked to the floor. I've just been so lonely, so lost and afraid, I need some comfort. I need some…I need someone to just pretend they care about me. Gunny may not be the ideal person, but it's something. It's something.


	14. Can't Slow Down

(Gob)

I ain't heard or seen nothing from Charon since he left Underworld. Damn guy…poor guy, really. Since that whole incident with Dez, he's been walking around like an angry, wounded dog. I think I'm the only one besides Nova he'll talk to, everyone else just gets a grunt and an evil glare. Damn near killed Patchwork a few weeks ago, before he left. Patchwork opened his big mouth and went stumblin' drunk and incoherent to Charon, about Dez. I never seen that man so angry before.

But now he's gone, and it's mostly just me, Nova and the rest of the people here. Not to mention Zack. He's the best damn thing that's ever happened to me in this world, well, besides Nova. Kid's got the biggest, blackest eyes and the same fiery red hair as Nova. Strong grip, too. Dr. Barrows says he's go some sort of…immunity, resistance, to radiation. He wants to run all these tests but I said hell no. Not till my boy is walking. I don't want anything to happen to him before then, and Nova tells me this is a very important part in a baby's life. Anything can happen. Shit I don't know what I'd do if something happened to Zack.

Anyways, it's just been us. Nova, me and the baby. Carol hangs around us, too, but Greta avoids us like the plague. I told Nova about what had happened between her, Charon and I. Nova thinks Greta's feeling pretty down and out, since the two men who showed interest in her went off with smoothskin girls. Ah well, she missed her chance anyways. Not like Charon would have made a good man back then, anyways.

Speaking of Charon, I've been worried about him. Said he was leaving and never coming back. So far he's held up that end of his deal. I wanted to tell him my suspicions before he took off, but damn I bit my tongue. Charon reminds me of Moriarty, and I keep having to remind myself he ain't gonna knock me one for talking. Well, depends on what I'm talking about. I'm sure Charon wouldn't hit me anyways, Dez liked me too much. But she ain't here now, is she?

I wanted to tell him that I think it's the Brotherhood's fault. Charon and Dez, you see they're too smart for 'accidents' to happen. I mean I won't put it past one of them to get shot in the crossfire, but hey we all take chances. But for them to be at the mercy of _turrets_? Not even turrets, turrets that were _deactivated_ by Dez herself. So I've heard. Now, Dez is smart. Damn girl hacked Moriarty's terminal within two minutes of sitting down in front of it and she didn't know a goddamned thing about him that would hint to the password.

I don't believe, no matter what anyone else thinks, that those turrets went off on 'accident'. I hate the Brotherhood, so maybe I'm being a bit bias, but hell it's _Dez_. It's _Charon_. Charon's trained not to make mistakes, especially ones that get his employer in danger. Charon's like a dog, following Dez like he does, so putting her in danger wouldn't be on his to-do list. Hell I'm the same way with Nova so I guess I can't judge him.

I'm down in Dr. Barrows' office now, just getting a routine checkup. He's confounded on how I managed to impregnate Nova. There's no doubt about Zack being mine though, damn kid has ghoul-traits. Bits of his muscle are showing all around his body, but the good doctor assures us that should clear up once he gets bigger.

"You're still coming back sterile, Gob. Can I have another sample?"

"What the hell do I look like? A goddamned machine who can pump that shit out by the hour? I have a woman to take care of, I'm drained, Doc."

Dr. Barrowed laughed at my sarcasm. Since Dez offed Moriarty, I've been coming into myself, remembering who I used to be before them goddamned Slavers caught up with me.

"Alright, Gob, come back tomorrow. Zack's nothing short of a miracle, I can't stress that enough to you."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

Getting up, I lit a cigarette and left the Chop Shop. Dr. Barrows reminds me every day how lucky I am to have a kid, even more lucky to have a gal like Nova, too. Girl don't even look like she had a baby. She lost the weight like it was nothing and runs around here like she owns the place. Hell, people let her. She's too damn beautiful to say no to.

Looking up, I looked at the entrance to Underworld. Damn. Shit my pants I think. Who in all the world do I see, looking around like a lost dog in heat? Charon. Good ol' angry Charon. His eyes met mine, and he charged towards me like he was on a mission.

"You need to come with me."

He said to me, his voice sounding like gravel under my boots.

"What?"

I have no idea what he's planning, but I ain't leaving my kid and girl here alone.

"I found Dez."

That's all it took. That's all it took for me to pack a bag, and bid my family goodbye. Nova understands, we owe Dez everything. If it wasn't for her, hell we'd still be working the bar in Megaton. We'd still be under Moriarty's rule and shit, I wouldn't have Zack in my life. Charon didn't say anything to anyone while I tossed my bag over my shoulder, and took the pistol Nova kept for me. I don't want to leave my family, but shit, whatever trouble Dez is in I have to help. I have to fuckin'…help…somehow.

Charon didn't say jack shit to me until we were out of Underworld. He smoked a cigarette as he walked, and I noticed he seemed edgier than usual.

"Charon? What's goin' on?"

He looked at me, giving me a look that said there was an approaching bloodbath. Not sure what kind of look gives that impression, though. Charon's kind of look.

"I found Dez."

"Yeah but _how_? You go lookin'?"

"No. She found me by mistake."

"I thought they were keeping her locked in the Citadel."

"As did I. They kicked her out, apparently. We have to _hurry_, Gob. I left her at Tenpenny Tower."

"What? Why the hell didn't you take her with you? Wait, why the hell am I coming?"

Charon turned his head away from me. It was like he's ashamed or some shit. I took out a cigarette of my own, and relished in the sweet nicotine. Nova never let me smoke since Zack was born. Said we both had to quit. Damn woman.

"Dez…Dez isn't what you remember her to be, Gob."

"What do you mean?"

Charon looked at me, pointing to his temple above his right eye.

"Memory loss. She is beginning to remember some things, however they are not clear to her. She is different, I cannot explain it. Kind, innocent, I suspect even naive about the true tales of her life."

"Shit. I mean…_shit_."

"I am hoping that by bringing you to the tower, you will be able to help her remember. It seems she remembers when people are kind to her. At least, that is how it has been with me."

"So…you're telling me she doesn't remember anything? Not even you?"

"Yes. She is aware of Charon, but she has yet to realize it is me."

"Why don't you tell her?"

"Because she would not believe me. It is best she not know who I am, until she remembers herself."

Damn. Charon really has himself in a pickle here. And I thought dealing with a hormonal Nova was bad. Dealing with a woman you love who don't even remember who you are must be twice as hard.

"I thought everyone in Tenpenny Tower were ghoul bigots?"

"They were. I helped Roy Phillips gain entrance to the place, in return for a room to keep Dez safe."

"You left her with _Roy_? _Roy Phillips_? He's a fuckin' smoothskin hater! How you know she's going to be safe in there?"

Charon gave me a look. It sent shudders up my spine and reminded me of Moriarty.

"Because Roy knows what will happen if he even _looks_ at her the wrong way."

He still loves that woman. Since they separated, that man has been so fuckin' out of it. Course I'd be the same way. Only difference being is Charon has no problem killing people. He's changed, too, I've noticed that. He's not the same angry person he used to be. Now he's angry with a reason and a cause, I feel bad for anyone who might get in his way. That shotgun on his back isn't there for just decoration.

"You think she'll remember me?"

"That is what I am hoping, yes. I am hoping that you will tell her whatever she may ask you to. Do not mention who I am, though. Do not tell her that I am the man who…"

He didn't finish his sentence, but I got the jest. This must be pretty hard for Charon, I'm sure he's never been in this position before. I figure I can lighten the mood.

"So you two ever fuck?"

I thought he was going to tear my head off right there. In a way, I know it made him feel a bit better. We've never seen eye-to-eye, but he's the closest thing to a friend I have outside of Nova and Dez.

"That is none of your concern."

"You have, don't worry I know. Hell Nova is _wild_ in bed. When she first told me how she felt…I was floored. Never thought a girl like Nova would fall for a guy like me."

"Nova was a prostitute, Gob. Her standards are not exactly high."

"Hey watch your mouth!"

If it's one thing I got angry about, it's when people start harassing my family. I'm a pretty docile guy, I can take a hit and walk away. But humiliate and attack my family, and I'll shoot you. Well, I won't shoot at Charon, that's just suicide. He tossed me a look, and I saw in his eyes a hint of humor. Damn prick just messin' with my head.

"I felt the same, with Dez."

He told me, avoiding eye-contact. He's starting to talk freely with me. Good. It'll get his mind off of the situation at hand and hopefully calm his angry ass down.

"Yeah we are pretty lucky. So what's Dez like in bed?"

"Keep it up and you will not make it out of here alive, Gob."

I can take a hint. I shut my gob and kept walking. Tenpenny Tower is a long way from here, I can only hope Charon knows a faster route. Just getting from Megaton to Underworld felt like a hike.


	15. There'd Never Be A Past

Tenpenny Tower is huge, I can say that. I used to vacation there on holidays when I had the cash. Didn't know the place still looked the same. Took Charon and I two days to get back here, and we only slept maybe five or six hours. Damn guy didn't seem to want to stop. I understand his hurry, I wouldn't trust Roy, either.

"Do not mention I am Charon. I will kill you."

"Yeah, yeah I know."

Believe me I know. We ran into a gang of Raiders on our way here, and I didn't even have my pistol out of the holster before Charon had them all dead. I know not to mess with this guy, hell I've always known, but now I know even more. Seeing Dez is going to be a big deal. Charon warned me that she might not be in the right state of mind. Oh she's normal, alright, but in comparison to how she used to be, she's downright loco now. Charon kept stressing to keep his identity secret. When I asked why he was so sensitive about it, all he grumbled was something about keeping the relationship. Guess she's kind of had an aversion to ghouls since she woke up. Go figure, they kept her in the Citadel.

Charon pushed open the doors to the tower and led me to the lobby. Ghouls that I used to know from Underworld walked around in all this pre-war garb. Hell it pissed me off. I wanted to tell them they aren't humans anymore and this isn't pre-war. They wouldn't listen to me, though. They'd just kind of laugh at me. I'm still pathetic to most of them. But hey, most of them don't get to go home to a smoothskin like Nova, that's for damn sure.

"Shit you got to take an elevator to get to your apartment? Fancy."

Charon glared at me as we stood in front of the doors. Soon enough they opened and we stepped inside. Charon crossed his arms in front of him, concentrating on something in his head.

"You have to help her, Gob."

Charon seems desperate for help. For anything that might make Dez remember.

"I'll try."

I am gonna try, too. Hell I owe my entire life to that girl, basically. If I can help her remember hers, we'd be even in a sense. The doors opened, and Charon stepped out. I'm floored by all this goddamned extravagance the place still has. Figured it'd be pretty decrepit by now, but hell it ain't. Sure it don't look like it use to, but hell it's fancy for the Capital Wasteland. I followed Charon down a hall and to the right. We stopped at a door, and he hesitated opening it. I thought I could hear some voices on the inside, but I figured it was Dez talking to someone.

Charon opened the door and walked in. Well, hello sight. I saw Dez sitting up in her bed, topless, next to a man who was equally as naked. I ain't never seen this guy before, but Dez seems to know him pretty well.

"Ah!"

She yelled when she saw us, and covered her bare chest with the blanket. Little late for that. Remind me to tell Charon his woman's got some nice tits. That is, if he don't kill me for saying that.

"What is going on?"

I didn't even notice Charon had pulled his shotgun until I looked at him. I could see how enraged he is. There's hurt in that look, too. I can tell, I can see it.

"T-t-t-this is Gunny! H-h-he came to s-s-see me!"

Charon cocked his shotgun and walked over to them. Since when does Dez stutter, or even show fear? She looked horrified, mortified, paler than salt.

"And now he can leave! Go! Get out of here!"

Gunny, I guess, got his naked ass out of bed. He dressed in front of us, his back facing us. I ain't never seen a man so scared in my life and it almost made me laugh. We watched him reach for his Power Armor, and then it all made sense to me. Hell I'm getting just as angry as Charon is over this.

"Leave it. Go."

"But it's my armor!"

"Do you see my finger?"

That was all Charon had to say before the guy shoved me aside to get out the door. Why can't anyone ever shove Charon, why is it always me? Oh, yeah, right. Looking back at Dez, I saw the bewildered expression on her face. She looked like she wanted to cry, but wasn't going to.

"He just came to see me, he found me."

"He was following you."

"You don't have to be so mean!"

Dez clutched the blanket to her neck. The way she looked…it almost made me cry. This isn't the Dez I once knew, the little girl who came from Vault 101. This Dez is an entirely different person, and she doesn't even seem to know how different. Charon put his shotgun on his back, and crossed his arms.

"This is Gob, he has a lot to tell you. I'll leave you to your words."

Charon told me earlier he was going to stand by the door and listen in. I don't know why, but hell it don't bother me none. I ain't gonna lie to the damn kid. Hell that's all she looks like right now, a kid. Sure she's always been a kid, but there was always something about Dez that's…that's seemed older. Now, shit, now she just looks like a scared little girl. I get what Charon was trying to tell me the whole trip here, be prepared. He wasn't kidding when he said she was different, hell she even looks different. Just the way she's sitting there, clutching that blanket with fear and surprise over her face tells me this isn't the Dez that escorted me to Underworld, or fought off Raiders with a sawed-off shotgun.

"W-w-what do you have to tell me?"

I sighed. Damn she sounds so…so _small_. It makes me kind of want to cry. I owe the damn kid everything and here she is, vulnerable, weak, sad. I ain't never seen her like this. Walking over to the side of her bed, I saw her cower out of the corner of my eye. This certainly isn't the girl who shot Moriarty point-blank in the face, then scavenged his dead body. Picking up a shirt, I handed it to her.

"You should get dressed first, kid. Don't worry I won't look."

She took the shirt from me, her hands shaking, nodding. I turned my back to give her some privacy. I saw her hand reach down and grab a pair of pants, and heard her sliding them on under the covers.

"O-ok."

I turned back around. She still had that blanket over her, even though its scalding hot in here. I motioned towards a spot on the bed with my hand.

"May I sit?"

She nodded, biting her lip. I sat down in front of her. I've come to see Dez as more than a friend, more like a surrogate daughter. I'm years, decades, centuries, older than her. Since she came walking out of that vault I've kind of taken a special liking to her. I ain't tough like Charon is, but I've just always felt the need to protect her, and comfort her. She needs me now. She don't know it, but she does.

"I uhm, I suppose you don't remember me?"

I asked. She looked at my face, really looked at it. Her eyes darted back and forth, examining me up and down.

"No…but…I don't feel scared of you."

"Well, that's good. My name's Gob. Remember now?"

"No…"

I sighed. This is going to be hard.

"Well, I uh, I know you. Or knew you. I haven't seen you in quite some time. I was the first person you met when you came out of the vault."

Her eyes lit up like bulbs. She leaned in towards me and wrapped her small hand around mine.

"Please…tell me?"

Her hand squeezed mine, her eyes watered over, and she looked eager.

"That's what I came here to do."

I told her everything, in as much detail as I could possibly remember. Nothing was too small or too unimportant. Sometimes when I said something, her eyes would shine over and she'd stare off into nothing, like she could remember. She didn't stop or interrupt my story, she just stared at me, or at nothing, anxious to hear what I had to say next. I told her about Charon, but nothing that would make her think he's the man she's with. I told her about Nova and I, and I told her about Zack. I told her all the things I've heard on the radio, all the things she shared with me, and all the good things she's done. Charon told me Simms had taken it upon himself to basically tell the poor kid she was this horrible person. Sure, she may have done some fucked up shit, but to me she isn't horrible. She's just a lost girl.

So I made it sound better, good. I didn't leave out the bad parts, but when I had to tell her something bad, I told her three good things that came from it. She seemed so shocked, to hear that she had done just as much good as she had done bad. Hell, more good than bad I think. She just watched me, while I talked and told her about everything I knew. I didn't tell her about her accident though, about what I'd heard, and about what I suspected. There was another time and place for that, not here, not now.

I finished up my story, and rubbed my knees with my hands. Dez looked like she just had a brick dropped on her head. Kind of a bad metaphor, huh?

"So…so I wasn't a whore?"

"What? No, god no. If anything you hated getting attention from men. At least, that's what it seemed like to me."

"And you…I saved you?"

"Yup. Sure did."

She got out of the bed and paced around in front of me, thinking it all over.

"I…can kind of remember. When you were talking…some of the things you told, I could _see_ them. Like you see a memory, in your head. I could…so…so you're not lying."

"I have no reason and nothing to gain by lying to you, Dez."

She smiled when I said her name. It's been a long time, since I've seen that smile.

"Gob…I remember first meeting you."

"You do?"

She nodded, still smiling.

"You were the first person to be nice to me, I remember I was scared of you. But then I wasn't because you were so nice to me. You gave me a free drink."

"That I did."

"And I remember what Moriarty looked like…"

I smiled. Charon's plan isn't working all the way, but it's progressing. Dez is remembering some things. Maybe not everything but I'm sure in time she will.

"But what about Charon?"

"I told you about Charon. He was with you the entire time."

She shook her head at me.

"No, no I mean what happened to him? Is he…is he alive."

"Last I heard, yes, he is."

"And he loved me?"

"More than I've ever seen a man love a woman."

"And…he protected me."

"With his life."

She rubbed her own cheek, thinking about the story. I watched as she closed her eyes, puckering her lips like she was kissing someone.

"I can't see his face…I remember, though. I remember where we met."

Her eyes were still closed.

"It was…it was in a place that was really dark…I can smell it. It smells like…like you do. There was music playing, and I remember…being at the bad end of a gun."

She opened her eyes, staring at me, eyes filling with tears.

"I don't know how you met him, kid. Never told me much of that."

"He…saved me. Someone…someone told him to kill me but…but he didn't."

Ahzrukhal. Yes, Ahzrukhal would have given that kind of order to Charon.

"You rememberin' all that, kid?"

Looking at me, she nodded.

"I just can't…_see_ any of it. I can see the place, but I don't know where it is. I can see…see the lights and the figures, but not the faces…It smells…but I'm not offended or repulsed by the smell."

She's so damn sad, she's trying so damn hard. I got up off the bed, and gave her a good hug. I think she needs it. I think this kid is so lost and alone in her own mind, that all she needs sometimes is good hug. Her arms wrapped around my torso, and she buried her face in my chest. We're almost the same height, but she feels like a sad, little kid.

"You're girlfriend…she's a human you said, right?"

"Yup. She is. Damn prettiest thing I've ever seen, too. Well, besides you."

I gave the kid a chuckle, and felt her sigh against me.

"Is, was, Charon a ghoul?"

Shit. Shit. What do I say to that? Hell I didn't think she'd ask that question, I just figured she'd assume…well I don't know what she would assume but it wasn't that. When I didn't answer her, she looked up at me and stepped away.

"Well?"

She asked impatiently. I stuttered, stammered, and finally caved in.

"Yes."

Shit. I can't lie to her. She's done so much for me, and lying…lying would just be wrong. Eventually she'll remember, and she'll remember I lied to her. Looking at her face, the hurt that flushed over, the pain of the realization, I felt helpless.

"I'm sorry kid. I mean, I just didn't think…I didn't think you should hear it from me."

She said nothing, but she fell to her knees. She ain't cryin, I think she's in shock. I lit a cigarette, and knelt down beside her. Shit. Charon could be coming in here any minute, and he's gonna kick my ass something sore over this.

"Here, kid. Smoke."

Dez took the cigarette from my hand, inhaling the nicotine.

"Lucas…Lucas was right…I was a ghoul-whore."

Now who the hell gets off on lying to her? Hell I ain't a fighter but I feel like walking up to Megaton and showing Simms just whose boss. Some self-righteous prick has no business lying to Dez. Especially in this state. It takes some sick individual to do that, I tell you.

"Hey you listen to me, kid. You were _never_ a ghoul-whore, or even a whore for that matter. You really loved Charon, and you were with him, like me and Nova see. We don't care what anyone thinks, and neither did you."

"I…you said I lost my home…for him."

"Yes well you did, but because you didn't want…you didn't want to lose him. Hell kid you loved that fuck, everyone could see it. The way you hung on his words, the way he followed you around. You don't find much of that out here, but it was nothing short of a miracle. Polar opposites, that's what you two were, but hell you loved one another."

"He's…he was…a _ghoul_."

"Yeah so am I. Think Nova worries about that? You certainly didn't. You looked past that."

"Why…how did…"

I rubbed her back. Where the fuck is Charon? He should be coming in by now.

"Kid, it ain't that big of a deal."

"Is that why…no one here attacks me? Because…because of Charon?"

"Yup. And I'd say because they don't want to piss him off."

"How would he know? Huh, Gob? He's…not even looking for me."

"Hey, you don't know that. Come on, stand up. For all you know he's…he's closer than you think. Now I'm not saying I know where he is, but hell kid, you never know."

I helped her to her feet and rubbed her arm.

"Want to get some air on the balcony?"

Dez nodded and I led her out. The hot sun would burn me, but I ain't got skin to burn. She leaned over the railing, smoking, looking out at the world below. I did the same. Damn, it's been a while since I've seen it like this. From a high place, seeing the horizon, seeing it all. You can see Megaton from here, heap of trash that it is. I'll never look at anyone in there the same, after what Simms did to Dez. A bunch of cocks, all of them.

"Did you know Charon?"

"Yup."

She talked around me, not looking at me, just saying things. I replied to them as truthfully as I could, without giving away that Charon was in this building. Which, may I add, he should be in here right now.

"Am I interrupting?"

Thank god. Turning around, Charon stood behind us, his arms crossed. Shit. It hit me. He just walked in on his woman and another man. I didn't really register that until just now. That fucker is probably dead, or pretty well-beaten.

"No…no you're not."

Dez said, but didn't look at him. Did she know? Did she make the connection? Naw. If she did she wouldn't be avoiding him. I bet she's mad over the whole 'other guy and Charon flipping shit' incident.

"I hope his information has proven helpful to you, Dez?"

"Yeah…it…has. It's just…hard. Taking it all in…where's Gunny?"

I wanted to ask who Gunny was, but then it hit me. The naked man in bed with her, most likely Gunny.

"He is still here. I have not yet asked him to leave. He is with Roy."

Dez turned around to face him. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. I wanted to hug her again, but I didn't. This is between them now.

"I want to see him. I have to see him."

"No."

"Why?"

"He is not here for you, Dez. He is…here for other reasons."

"Like what?"

"I do not know."

"Then how do you know he's not here for me? Huh? How do you know?"

Like a kid throwing a tantrum. Charon must be hurting something bad, having to deal with this. Having to look her in the face, knowing she doesn't remember who he is.

"Trust me."

"No! I can't trust you!"

Shit. Maybe the kid _did_ know.

"Excuse me?"

"You…you knew! You knew this whole time! I want to go back to the Citadel!"

"What do I know?"

"About _me_! You knew! How else would you know to bring him here?"

She pointed at me and I held my hands up in defense.

"Whoa, I ain't got nothing to do with what happens between you two."

They both looked at me. Wrong time to speak, I guess.

"I heard he knew you, and I brought him here. That is all."

Charon's trying really hard to hide who he is. I'm wondering why, exactly. Hell if this was Nova and I was in Charon's shoes, I would be all up and down convincing her the truth. But I guess Charon don't want to come off as some creep.

"Just leave me alone. Go away. Both of you."

Don't have to tell me twice. I walked back inside, and Charon followed me, closing the balcony door. He gave me a look that told me to follow him, so I did. I followed him out of the apartment, and down near the elevator.

"You told her."

He said, crossing his arms. Charon don't need to try and look or act tougher than me. We both know he could break me in half and think nothing of it.

"I told her Charon was a ghoul. That's it."

He shook his head, and punched the wall behind him.

"She is…vulnerable, Gob. She _can't_ know who I am."

"She doesn't!"

He glared at me, I felt so small, so insignificant.

"I have to tell her. I will do so tonight, when she is calm."

I didn't argue that. Hell he should have told her the second he found her, and not waited this long. But I ain't him, and I can't pick what he does and doesn't do. I just hope whatever happens, they're both alright in the end. I ain't got no friends besides these two screw ups, it'd be a sad, sad day if anything happened to them.


	16. From Your Lips She Drew the Hallelujah

I didn't see Gunny. I locked everyone out of the apartment, and kept to myself for the whole day. I think they understand why, though. Everything Gob told me, it's true. I just _know_ it is. When he started talking, I began to remember him. Remember his face, his mannerisms, everything. I felt like he was my best friend, and when he was done telling me all he knew, I was sure he was. I remembered him, being the first nice person I met, being the only nice person I met for a while.

Everything he said, everything he told me, it was like I could see it. I couldn't remember it, but I could picture it, in my head. I could see the places, but not much else. When Lucas told me, it was kind of the same thing, but not as vivid. There wasn't so many colors, so many lights and sounds. Gob's voice was so friendly, s familiar, when he hugged me I just knew he was my best friend. His body, felt so…so old. Not old in an age way, but old in a good way. I don't know, I can't describe it.

But now I know the truth. My father…he died. He died saving me, saving the world, in a sense. It was me who gave everyone fresh water, me. Not some Brotherhood Knight, me. I helped Gob and Nova to Underworld, and now they have a baby. Zack, that's his name. Lucas left that part out, he didn't tell me that I had helped as many people as I had killed. Somehow, I felt better about who I was. My memory isn't all there, but soon, soon it will be. Taking it all in, it's hard. But at least I know now, I'm not all bad.

Charon is a ghoul. I think that floored me more than anything else Gob had to say. But he assured me, over and over, that I loved Charon. That Charon loved me, too, and that he protected me. Gob told me Charon had saved my life, and mourned when I got hurt. I never knew…any of that. Him being a ghoul…he said, never mattered. I don't think…I don't know if it'll matter now. Someone, him, he cared for me. Gob said he had never seen me sadder, than when Charon wasn't around. I believe him, too. I believe everything Gob has to say.

The sun set about an hour ago, and the big full moon is shining down on me, on the balcony. I've been standing out here, chain-smoking, trying to remember. All I got from it is a massive headache, and images that makes no sense. I remembered the memory I had of Charon and I, the one where all the emotions rushed inside of me, where I felt so…so warm and safe. Ghoul or not, it takes a real man to make a woman feel like that.

Sex with Gunny…it wasn't fun. I didn't feel a damn thing I had felt before, before with Charon in that memory. I just wanted to feel comforted so badly, I gave in to his advances. I regret it now, regret I ever even kissed him. I hate myself for that. Charon may be a ghoul, but how he made me feel…it…it was amazing. That's probably why Lucas called me a 'ghoul whore'. Gob said many people didn't agree with my choice in suitors. I just never knew they hated me for it. I never knew people would lie and hurt me over it.

I heard my apartment door slam open behind me, but I didn't bother to turn around. I know who it is. It's my friend. My unnamed and mysterious friend. I heard him close the door, and his footsteps approaching me outside. The moon shone down on the stone balcony, making it seem like one bit reflecting mirror. It's beautiful out here.

"Dez?"

I can hear the cautious tone in his voice. I didn't turn around.

"Tell me…tell me that song. The one I remembered the first night we met."

Gob…he's told me so much. I need comfort now. I need to know for myself, what is true, and what isn't.

"You do not remember it? I had thought you did."

"Please, just…tell me."

He stood behind me, but didn't touch me. I stared up at the moon, not caring about anything. I just want to remember. I just want to…see it all for myself.

"It is a sad song, Dez."

"Yeah, I know."

I heard him walking closer, and he wrapped his arms around my body. He unfolded my hands, and took them in his. I let him, I don't feel scared of anything, of him, anymore. Gob had told me I knew how to take care of myself, and I believe him. My friend placed his hands over mine, and began to guide them over the banister. I closed my eyes, remembering. I knew how to play the piano once, a lifetime ago. His fingers pressed down on mine.

"You used to love doing this. It soothed you."

I suppose I should be shocked, but I'm not. I think somewhere deep down inside, I knew this man once knew me. How he knows me, I don't know. People…people just don't take in strangers out of the kindness of their hearts. I bet he didn't want me to know, to protect me. I can't think of anything vile he would do, if he wanted to hurt me, he would have by now.

"Yeah…I did?"

"Yes. It often calmed you down, when you were stressed or upset."

I smiled, my eyes still cold. His hands are warm over my chilled ones. Our hands moved gracefully, like I didn't even have to think about it, like I could just do it on my own. I heard him humming in my ear, his guttural voice reminding me of what notes are.

"It sounds…sad."

"You used to enjoy playing this song."

He's not lying. If he was lying, the tone, the tune, the memory of the motions, wouldn't have been so fresh in my mind.

"I was sick once, wasn't I?"

I asked, letting his hands guide my own.

"Yes."

"From what?"

"An infection brought on by a bullet. You have the scar, here."

He took one of his hands off of mine, and pressed it against my shoulder, very close to my heart. I know that scar. I've seen it so many times, in the Citadel when I would shower, and examine my carved up body. The closeness of this ghoul…its comforting. I like him. I like being around him. I can remember easier, and I know now it's because he knew me once, forever ago, a lifetime ago. I'm not mad he lied, not mad he didn't tell me. If he had told me any sooner, I probably wouldn't have believed him.

"Who shot me?"

He took his hands from me, and rested them on the rail. His body enclosed mine, arms on either side of my own.

"Quinn. It was a mistake."

"Quinn?"

"A ghoul down in Underworld. He did not know it was you, and he open fired."

"I'm pretty well-known in Underworld, aren't I?"

"Yes."

I glanced down at my wrist. The browned bandages looked disgusting.

"I can heal, you know, by radiation. Like ghouls can."

"That is from…from the Purifier. I am sure Gob mentioned that to you."

"He did."

"Gunny left hours ago. It is no longer safe for you here, Dez."

A cold wind blew, scattering up my hair.

"Why?"

"The Brotherhood sent him to confirm your location. They will come for you soon. If you wish to return to them, I cannot stop you. I can simply warn you, that they do not have good intentions for you."

"So…Gunny wasn't here to see me, was he?"

"I am afraid not, no."

Stupid, stupid me. Who would have guessed in this world, I'd find kind people in mutated people? That the only ones to show me kindness were ghouls, and the ones who want to hurt me are humans?

"Do you know why they want me?"

"Yes."

"Will you tell me?"

"…They want you dead. You are a threat to them. Even if you do not remember, you still pose a very dangerous threat."

"I don't know how…"

"Gunny did not share much with us. Had we killed him, however, the Brotherhood would invade and kill everyone in here. For the greater good, we had to let him go."

It didn't hurt as bad as I thought. I always knew something was wrong with Gunny, with the Brotherhood. They act kind, they act like they're good people, but…I never thought they really were.

"Gunny knew me before I woke up, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"He lied to me. Did everyone in the Citadel know me?"

"Yes."

I smirked, sarcastically. It must have taken a lot to control that many people to lie. Or I must have been one hell of a bitch. Either way, it's not safe here. It's not safe at the Citadel. I don't know where else to go.

"Where am I going to go?"

"I do not know. I will come with you, if you want me to."

I looked at his arms next to me on the banister.

"I meant something to you, didn't I?"

"What do you mean?"

"Before, in the before time…I meant something to you."

"Yes. You did."

"That's why you helped me when you met me, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"That's why you're helping me now…"

"You are getting good, at guessing."

The moon, the moon, and they danced in the light of the moon. It's big and cold, but it lights up the desert like some silver piece of jewelry.

"Where should I go?"

"Nowhere in particular. You should keep moving, so they never know where you are."

"West…I can go West…"

"No. The Brotherhood is stationed in all parts of America. Stay where you are safe, stay here, in the Capital Wasteland. If you plan correctly, they will not come looking. Eventually, they will forget, they will lose enough men and leave you be."

"Lose enough men?"

"Kill them. You were smart, Dez. No one could fight you and win. Unless of course, you were caught off guard. Even the Brotherhood, with their training and armor, did not stand a chance against your methods."

"Why? They're trained…"

"Because you were unpredictable. You had the advantage of knowing the Capital Wasteland, the methods to execute anyone who stood in your path. You were merciless, and they are not. They show mercy."

"How…how do you know?"

He sighed behind me, I saw his hands gripping the rail so tight his knuckles turned white.

"Because they showed me mercy, and it was their biggest mistake."

"Why?"

"Because I am the most dangerous asset to you, Dez. Because if they had killed me, you would be at their mercy. They let me live, and now they know."

I looked up at the moon, the moon, the moon.

"What do they know?"

"They know you are with me."

I bit my lip, and blinked slowly. I could feel his head above mine, if I looked up, my nose would touch his chin. I wonder if this is how it feels, to be truly safe, secure. To know that even though you may not remember, you can take comfort in your own self. Without caring, I lifted my head, my nose grazing my friend's chin. I feel childish, I feel…I feel like…I can't explain. With his arms beside my own, my neck bent backwards…I smile. I stay like this, because I can.

"That's dangerous, isn't it? Me being with you?"

"For them, it is."

He won't hurt me. He won't let me leave here without him. He's my friend, my savior, my protector.

"You won't leave me alone out here, will you?"

"Not unless you want me to."

I kept my neck bent back, I let my nose graze under his chin, and I opened my eyes. I saw his throat move, as he swallowed. If I leaned back just an inch, we'd be touching. Moving my head back, I looked out at the silvery desert. The chilled night air made me shudder, and I smirked. I don't remember it all, but I know at least. I know who I was, and I can take comfort in my own abilities.

"When do you think they'll come for me?"

I don't know why the Brotherhood wants me, or what their motives are, but I can't think of anything good.

"As soon as Gunny returns to the Citadel."

"They'll kill me, you think?"

"No. They will take you, though. I do not know their motives."

"How long do we have?"

"Not very long. The night, I presume, before we must leave here."

I don't know where to go. I don't know what they'll do to me if they find me.

"What about Gob?"

"What about him?"

"We should take him back to Underworld."

"Yes…I suppose we should. It is pushing the limits. We will come close to the Citadel."

I smirked, and put my head back, my nose touching him once again.

"But you won't let them hurt me, will you?"

"No."

He growled, and I felt his body shift. He put his hands on my hips, and I sighed a breath of relief. The feel of his hands on me, his hot breath over my face…it felt right. I felt him step closer to me, pressing his chest to my head. I straightened my neck, resting the back of my head on him.

"You never let anything bad happen to me, did you?"

"I did my best to protect you."

"You didn't answer my question."

"No. I did not let anything bad happen to you."

I felt his hands with mine, felt the bumps and ridges of his muscles and skin. I felt the leather gloves he wore, felt his bare arm and his leather armor. The wind blew again, and I felt the hairs on his arm stand up. His fingers dug in my skin, clutching the fabric that hung loosely around my body.

"Where did this scar come from?"

I took his hand and led it under my shirt. I traced his fingers along the large scar on my back, the one that wrapped around my ribs, the one that always stayed a fresh, pink color.

"In a place called The Pitt. I was not present with you, when you received it."

He whispered slightly in my ear. I felt his heart beating against my back, pulsing.

"This one?"

I put his hand on my stomach, my abdomen.

"Bullet wound, when fighting Talon Mercenaries."

Leading his hand, I took it out from under my shirt. I led him to my neck, and placed it on a small welt.

"This one?"

I felt his fingers brush the scar, trace it, touch it.

"Me."

Closing my eyes, I focused on his hand. Focused on how it felt against my skin, how warm he is. He traced the scar, and I bent my neck so he could see it better. I felt him lower his head, resting in the crook of my neck. His hand found it's way down, down into my pants, and on my thigh. I felt his fingers tracing a welt, it reminded me of a spider web.

"This, is also from me."

He rasped, taking his hand away. He placed it back on my stomach, his hot breath on my neck made me shudder.

"Why'd you do it?"

"I had no choice in the matter."

Wrapping my hands around his neck, I stoked the back of his head, pressing myself into him. His lips grazed my neck, but he didn't kiss it. I felt them over the scar, his lips, his hot breath pressing against it.

"Do you love Gunny?"

"No, I don't."

"Then why did you sleep with him?"

"I was lonely…I didn't know…I needed someone to tell me it was all okay…"

I felt his arms, his hands, tighten around my waist, my stomach. Even if I wanted to get away from him, I couldn't. I don't want to, though. I want to stay here, right here, just like this. His lips came dangerously close to the scar on my neck, I could feel them, hot against my skin. I stroked the back of his neck with my hand, holding the metal plate that covered his shoulder with the other. My head is filled with so much, with foggy memories, useless images, and invigorating emotions. All of them are useless to me, they don't make me remember. I remember this, I will remember this.

"I'm cold…"

I said, feeling his hands over my skin, his fingers gently grazing my stomach.

"Do you want to go inside?"

His voice vibrates in my ear, in my head, and images flash at me. I can see myself in a lit cave, scowling at…at him through a fire. My body aches all over, but I'm too angry in the memory to care about it.

"Yeah…"

I mutter, and feel his hands slide away from me. I feel him pick his head up, and the scar on my neck turns cold from the air. I watch him walk away from me, his back straight, his body tense. The wind whips at my hair, and I bite my lip. You knew me, my friend, but what were you to me? I'm not angry he never told me, angry that he lied. I never would have believed him, if he had told me at any other time. So why did I feel so many emotions. Gob said Charon's a ghoul. Can…can he be Charon? Can he be the one who made me feel such…such explosive emotions and feelings?

He turned in the doorway, looking at me, wondering if I was coming. I bit my lip, nervous. He said…he said a lot of things. I know now that…that he knew me. He traveled with me. If he didn't I wouldn't have scars from him, I wouldn't be so familiar with him, so safe and comfortable. He wouldn't be so protective of me. I caught up to him in the doorway, and he looked down at me, expressionless.

"I will close the door."

And he did, too. I can remember snippets of my life, I don't think I'll ever get my entire collection back, but I can deal with a few. Gob told me my life, and I trust him. I remember him. He wouldn't lie to me. My friend looked at me, walking over and standing next to me. I tried to examine his face, tried to see if…well I don't know what I'm trying to see. Glancing down at my bandaged wrist, I smirked a bit.

"You think I can take this off?"

I asked, and he took my arm in his hands.

"Yes."

We walked over to the bed and sat down. I watched as he carefully peeled away the nasty bandages. Soon, he was done, and I saw my wrist. It's angry, red, a bit swollen, and sore. My muscle is exposed, but it doesn't hurt to the touch. I held it close to my face, it smells.

"You should shower tomorrow, clean it out."

The water here is radiated. It would help, a lot.

"Am…am I half-ghoul?"

I asked, a bit worried.

"No. You were exposed to an ungodly amount of radiation whilst in the Purifier. It made you resistant to radiation, allowed you to be healed by it. You are, however, not half ghoul."

Hearing that made me feel a lot better. I smiled at my friend, putting my wrist on my thighs.

"Where were you, when the Purifier started?"

He looked away from me, and I frowned.

"…I was attempting to rescue you."

"Why?"

"I thought…you had died."

"But I didn't die."

"I am aware of that. It is twice now, you have escaped death."

Twice?

"What you mean 'twice'?"

He sighed heavily, gripping his pants in his fists.

"I feel that may be a story for another time. Perhaps when you can remember more clearly. Today, you have had enough. I suggest you rest, we have a long walk ahead of us."

He's right. I can always figure it out tomorrow. Kicking off my outfit, I let myself be free in my shorts and white tank top. It's not like I'm down in my underwear or anything, and it's pretty chilly in here at night. No heat, go figure. I don't want to overheat under the blanket, though. Tomorrow, we are going to…to somewhere, I'm not sure. I guess I'll find that out then, too.

Sliding under the covers, I watched my friend pace around the room, messing with his shotgun. He still never told me his name, but in time he would tell me. I should be more worried about who he is, about our intimate moment on the balcony, but I'm not. I don't feel there's a need to worry. I don't know why, and it bothers me. I may know about my life, and may remember some things, but there's a lot I still don't know, and it hurts. It hurts to try and remember.

"Hey?"

My voice is soft, quiet. I hear it in my own ears.

"Yes?"

"Where will you sleep?"

We've never slept in this room together before. He left the same night we got it. I never want to feel that lonely every again.

"Perhaps the floor."

"No, no that's not nice. Here, you can sleep on that side. I trust you."

I watched him think it over for a minute. Finally, he nodded, and yawned. I guess he's pretty tired. Walking from here there and everywhere would get someone tired. Hell just walking from the Citadel, to Megaton, to here wiped me out. I yawned, too, mimicking him. I wonder who he is, I wonder if he'll ever tell me, or if I'll ever find Charon.

My friend began to takeoff his armor. Piece by piece, strap by strap, he was able to slide it off his torso. Then he bent down, and began to work on his boots, unlacing them carefully. I was able to just kick off my shoes, and pants, and shirt. It wasn't a huge project.

"Why do you wear all that, anyways?"

"I have always worn this."

"But why?"

"It is my armor."

"Do I need armor, too?"

"Yes."

I smiled, folding my arms in front of me. My friend stood back up, in a black shirt, and I admired what was under that fabric. The shirt hung around him, like any shirt would fit a man, but you could tell he was in good shape.

"What kind of armor did I used to wear?"

I asked as he walked over to the other side of the bed. He didn't answer me until he had slid his body in, his feet and lower half covered by the blanket.

"It varied. You would often wear Raider armor, and often complained if you wore anything else."

"What's a 'Raider'?"

"You'll see when we leave here tomorrow."

"Can I have their armor?"

"If you wish. You will have to kill them, and take it from them."

I bit my lip, and glanced down at my folded hands.

"Oh…"

"They are not good people, do not worry. Killing them used to be a sport to you."

It doesn't matter what killing used to be to me. It's the now that matters. Now, I don't like killing. I had enjoyed killing the residents here, and I don't ever want to do it again. It's not fun, I mean, to be covered in blood that isn't your own. It isn't right. As much as I may now know about my past, it still doesn't justify anything I do. I know I came from Vault 101, my father's name was James and he's dead. I never talked to Gob about my mom, so he doesn't know. As far as I'm concerned, I have no family. I wandered the Wasteland killing and being basically a renegade until…until I found Charon.

Gob said I sort of cleaned up in a way, after I had Charon with me. He thinks that having someone with me out there, in the desert, made my trips easier, and soothed whatever it was that made me act out. I can agree on that, it does seem like it would be awfully lonely out there. But it doesn't answer the basic question of who _am_ I? I know I am Dezbe, daughter of James, renegade of the Capital Wasteland…but what makes me tick? What makes me do the things I used to do, and what made me forget it all?

Looking over at my ghoul friend, I watched as he closed his eyes, his head resting on both his own shoulder and his pillow. Charon was a ghoul. This ghoul knew me. I figure if he's Charon, though, he would have told me by now. He would have let me know that it was him, and I didn't need to keep walking. Or at least, Gob would have told me, right? I don't know anymore, I just don't. There's still so many things, so many questions, that I feel I'll never really know.

I feel strange. Strange like…like there's something in my head. Pulsating, vibrating, moving like a bug. I don't know what it is, but I don't like it. It's making my stomach churn and making my whole body feel scared. Running my fingers through my hair, I looked down at my friend.

"Tell me a story."

I demanded, wanting something to distract myself. He opened an eye, and glanced at me.

"What?"

"A story. Tell me one."

"Of?"

"Of me. Tell me…tell me…tell me how…I don't know."

I heard him sigh, and I fell back on my own pillows, exhausted. In such a short, short time, my life has been turned upside down. Is this how it felt when I was banished from the vault? Tossed into a world of unknown, of death and destruction. I don't know. I can't remember, I can't remember much of anything.

"One night, a long while ago, you tended to my wounds."

Blinking, I looked at my friend. He was sitting up, the blanket over his waist, a cigarette pursed between his lips.

"I did?"

"Yes. I had…I had injured my hands. You tended to them, very gently, and bandaged them up for me."

"How did I know how to do that?"

"Your father was a scientist. A doctor. You were an exceedingly bright girl, Dez."

A doctor? I'm the daughter of a doctor? I don't even know how to care for a skinned knee, let alone help someone else. I guess that's what happens when you lose your memory, though. You forget a lot, everything. I feel so sad, so alone. Looking up at my friend, I pleaded with him.

"Did your girlfriend travel with me, too?"

"In a sense…yes."

The answer was strained, like he wasn't sure what to say.

"I just don't know anything, and I feel really stupid."

"You are not stupid, Dez."

"You said before I was smart. You don't know what it's like, to not know anything and have to rely on the stories everyone else tells you."

I heard the cigarette burn as he inhaled on it. His black shirt moved with his body, expanding and shrinking with every breath he took.

"Do you think I should go and find the answers on my own?"

"No. In fact, I think that is a horrible idea."

"Why?"

"The Brotherhood are after you. It would be quite foolish to assume they won't find you and venture off into a world you do not yet remember."

"But…but I _can_ remember, if I just see it!"

He sighed, and stubbed his smoke out in an ashtray.

"If that is what you wish to do, I will come with you."

"Why?"

His eyes narrowed like he was angry.

"You will not survive without me. The Brotherhood will not be so quick to attack with me in your party."

He leaned over and turned the lights off. I wanted to mess with my Pip-Boy and turn that light on, but I don't remember how. I watched as his outline laid down, his back to me. I guess that's all he wants to say. I feel tears in my eyes again, and I don't like it.

Pulling the blanket up to my shoulders, I laid on my side with my back to him. I'm so tired, so alone. But I have a friend. I have a friend who used to know me. _But he lied to you_.

"What?"

I asked, turning my head to my friend.

"What?"

He said, not moving.

"Did you say something?"

"No."

I swear he did. I swear he said something. Maybe it's my mind playing tricks on me. It used to do that in the Citadel. I'd be in an empty room and hear people talking. Strange, very, very strange. Shaking my head, I laid back down and sighed. Closing my eyes, I tried to imagine things. I tried to give myself memories to look back on, but it didn't work. All I came up with are the blurred images of my past, and noises, sounds that weren't very clear. Without thinking, I groaned loudly.

"It will be impossible for me to sleep if you continue to make such noises."

I frowned, and sighed loudly just to tick him off.

"I'm not tired."

"Yes, well I am. I suggest you get tired very quickly."

I didn't say anything back. I just stared at my hand under the covers, and poked at my exposed muscle. There's some on my collarbone, too. Rolling over, I poked my friend in the back.

"What is it now?"

"What's this from?"

He rolled over to face me, and looked at where my hand was placed. I was grazing the exposed muscle, and slight bone, across my collarbone.

"Trog. You received the infection after venturing into The Pitt."

"You know so much."

"No. I was simply present when you received many of the scars you have. I am relaying information that was transferred to me by yourself. That is all."

"Why are you so formal all the time? We're friends, you can relax."

"With you in this current state, the last thing I can do is 'relax' as you put it."

"Why?"

He didn't answer me. All he did was stare at me with those white eyes. Sometimes they creep me out, but most of the time, I look at them for comfort. Like two big white marbles on a black piece of paper.

"Can you promise me something?"

I asked him.

"What?"

"Don't leave me alone out here, okay? I don't…I don't want to die until I know who I am…"

"Very well. However I feel I must inform you that even when you had your memories, you still did not know who you were."

"I didn't?"

"No."

That's not comforting. I frowned, sad, and looked away from his white eyes.

"I…I'm scared of being alone out here. I don't know what…what to do anymore."

"In the morning, you will understand things slightly more. You will not be alone out here Dez, I have never left you alone."

"Never?"

"I have been by your side since…since you met me. I do not wish to abandon you now."

"How did you meet me?"

"It is a story for another day, for now, rest."

He rolled away from me. I want to touch him. I want to feel those feelings he made me feel on the balcony. Something inside told me that this ghoul, this man, was something more than he's pretending to be. Something told me that he meant something. He can be Charon, but he isn't. I think if he was, I'd know. But lately, I'm not sure I know much of anything, anymore.


	17. If There's Nothing Left to Say

When I woke up the next day, my friend wasn't there. The balcony door was open, and I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Kicking off the blankets, I stood up, stretching and yawning. Looking outside, I saw the sun slowly rising somewhere off in the distance. You know, you can run as long and as fast as you want, but you'll never reach the sun. Want to know why? Because the world is round. You can't fall off of it, even if you wanted to, like I do.

Walking to the door, I saw my friend watching the sunrise. His hands were jammed into his pockets, and he stood in his black shirt, staring off into the semi-dark desert. We have to leave today. We have to run away, bring Gob to Underworld, and survive. I don't know where Underworld is exactly, or what to expect from it, but I have to go. I don't know why the Brotherhood wants me dead, or why this ghoul is so dangerous to them, but I have to stay away from them. Maybe in time, I'll remember my memories. I'll remember them clearly, and have a story, rather than a jumbled mess of pictures, sounds, and emotions.

"You're awake."

I said, looking out at the sun.

"Yes. I was waiting to wake you. We must leave early this morning. Time is not on our side."

I smirked, playing with a strand of my hair.

"What are we going to do?"

"Take Gob to Underworld. After that, I am not sure. We must avoid detection by the Brotherhood at all costs."

I looked at my split ends in my hair, and began to think. The Brotherhood were present when my father died. They lied to me about who I was, and kicked me out without reason. They sent Gunny to follow me, and confirm my location so they could take me back and kill me. All of a sudden, I don't feel like being nice.

"Is there anyone who would help us take them down?"

My friend looked at me, and I looked up at him. He sighed, looking away, and I let go of my hair.

"There is the Enclave, but they want you dead as much as the Brotherhood."

"I don't have many friends out here, do I?"

"You have friends, Dez. Problem is, your friends are renegades, not ones in position of power who could help."

"What if we found people to help? I mean, from what Gob told me…I'm smart, I can fight. You said yourself last night I was good, I didn't show mercy or anything."

"That was a different time, Dez. You are not the same now."

I feel angry. Angry and frustrated.

"Listen to me. I can _do _it! I have…I have dangerous weapons in my pack, we can take them down. We can _get_ them!"

My friend looked at me, sadness hidden behind his eyes. It didn't soothe my anger, but it made me calm down a bit.

"You were able to kill and annihilate the mercenaries of Fort Bannister with a Mini Nuke. However, the Citadel is not Fort Bannister. It is much larger, they have trained men and women who will kill you on the spot. It would not be an easy task to do what you are thinking of doing."

Fort Bannister?

"What's…what's Fort Bannister?"

I heard him sigh, and I crossed my arms over my chest. Gob mentioned something to me last night about Fort Bannister, but he didn't say much.

"Fort Bannister was a former outpost for trained mercenaries called Talon Company. To spare a long story, they kidnapped us. You were able to escape, without me, however. Yet you came back a month or so later, and was able to infiltrate their base, and help me escape."

His voice seemed like it was distant. I closed my eyes, and tried to remember. I could see myself on top of a cliff, cheering and hollering. It was night, but the light of the explosion made it seem like day. I remember that. I do.

"How come I escaped, but you didn't?"

Opening my eyes, my friend came up to me. He guided me inside the apartment, closing the door behind him. I watched, closely, as he took his shirt and lifted it up, taking it off. I saw his bare chest, the muscles, the patches of skin, the veins. A part of me wanted to touch him, he looked so familiar. Scars decorated his body worse than they did mine, and I felt sorry. I wondered where he got them all. In some parts, his muscles were even scarred, deeper red than the muscles around them. He turned his back on me, and I looked him up and down. With a free hand, he pointed to a long, deep scar between his shoulder blade and spine.

"You stabbed me, in order to free yourself."

I covered my mouth with my hands. My friend put his shirt back on, and walked past me while I stared at the wall. I stabbed him? Me? Why would…why would I ever hurt him. Closing my eyes, I tried so hard to remember. All that came to me was the feeling of a tender embrace, followed by a rush of adrenaline. He told me last night, he had given me scars. I know now, I gave him one, too. What kind of relationship did we have? What kind of people…were we?

"I…why?"

I turned, ad saw he was strapping on the top part of his armor.

"It had to be done. I was angry with you at first, but in time I understood your reasons for doing it. The same way you came to forgive me for giving you the scar on your neck."

"You never told me why you did that."

"Another day. For now, Dez, I think we should move. The Brotherhood will be here soon."

I didn't ask anymore questions. I listened to him, and put on the outfit he had given me when we met. He helped me strap my pack to my back, and handed me the double-barrel shotgun. I put it on my back, like I knew how to. My friend gave me a knowing nod, and I followed him out of the apartment. A part of me didn't want to go. I want to stay here, and just forget everything. I want to make a new life, and forget my old one. As I walked, Charon's necklace lightly bounced off of my chest, reminding me that I can't just forget. I have to keep moving, keep looking for the answers and searching for the truth. I may not know who I am, but I have an idea of who I used to be. I can start new with this, make this journey my own. I can do better than I did before, and find out the real truth to the Wasteland.

We met Gob in the lobby on the first floor of the tower. He was sleeping peacefully on a mat I'm sure Bessie Lynn gave to him. My friend walked over, and shook him with his boot.

"Wake up."

He growled, and Gob rolled over, rubbing his eyes.

"Goddamnit…why the fuck you wakin' me up so early?"

"We have to take you to Underworld. We must move. Get up."

"I have half a mind to try to fight you on this one Ch-"

"Get _up_!"

I blinked, and looked at Gob. What did he say? Curiously, I caught the eye of my friend. He looked worried, alarmed, like something was bothering him. No, it's probably nothing. Just my mind playing tricks on me like it always does.

"Alright, alright. I'm up."

Gob stood up, yawning and stretching. He scratched himself, glaring at my friend.

"Pull up your Pip-Boy map and check for Metro stations in the nearby area."

"Why?"

I asked my friend, hearing the worry in his voice.

"The Brotherhood cannot track us down there."

I nodded, and began to look at my Pip-Boy. There's nothing close to a Metro tunnel around here, and I sighed. Gob and my friend stared at me, waiting to hear what I'd found.

"No…there's nothing."

"Then we will have to make do on foot. Come."

My friend led the way, while Gob and I lingered behind. I don't want to leave, but I have to. I don't know what exactly to expect from all of this, but I know my friend will keep me safe. He said he's kept me safe before, so why would now be any different? I guess it wouldn't be. But before…before I knew what I was doing. I knew how to survive on my own, and I knew what to expect. Now, now I don't.

Looking at Gob, I wanted him to give me a hopeful smile, and he did.

"You alright kid?"

He asked while we walked towards the rising sun. This is a new beginning for me, a new life ahead, but sometimes beginnings aren't simple.

"Just…overwhelmed."

"Ah, it's alright. You got us, you don't need to worry."

"I guess…but…that's not really it."

He put a hand on my shoulder, as if to try to comfort me. I'm beginning to think out here comfort is something not to be expected. Something rare and unknown.

"What is it then, kid?"

Kid. He calls me kid, and it makes me smirk. It reminds me I am a kid, and that my birthday will be coming up. I won't be a kid then, I'll be twenty, an adult. The thought of that scares me.

"I don't know, Gob. It just feels weird. You and…you and him know me. I don't know me, but you do. It's hard to comprehend."

He nods at me, trying to understand something he doesn't. Sighing, I look at the sand. It's still kind of dark out, with the sun slowly rising. I look up at the back of my friend's body, at his leather armor, at his shotgun he has strapped to the back.

"Hey."

I call to him, and he turns his head towards me, but keeps walking.

"Did you know Charon?"

I ask, and an uncomfortable silence falls over everyone. Gob looks away, as does my friend. I've lost my mind, and I'm trying to find it, as fast as I can. I don't want to rely on them to take care and protect me. I want to protect myself. I want to know who I am and remember it all, good and the bad. I've never wanted something so badly as I do this, except of course, Charon.

"Yes. I knew him."

My friend grumbles, not looking at me, his stance and walk set on one destination: Underworld.

"What was he like? Did he really love me like Gob said?"

I watch as both of them light a cigarette, the situation obviously stressing them out.

"Yes. He loved you very much, Dez."

I jog up to walk beside him, and touch his arm with my hand. He looks at me, and the white film over his eyes looks…moist. As if he's trying not to cry. No, my friend doesn't cry. He's strong, and he's brave. He's not weak like I am.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Do you think he still loves me now?"

"Yes."

"Will I ever find him?"

"Yes, I believe that is possible."

I pout, even though the answer is good, it doesn't make me feel good. I still feel lost, even with my newfound knowledge, even with Gob here. I still feel so lost, so alone.

"I know he's a ghoul. And that's it. I don't know what he looks like, but I know how he makes me feel."

"I see."

I let my friend walk away from me, and I let Gob catch up to me. The warm sun begins to heat up my body, and I relish in it.

"Trust us kid, he loved you."

Gob tells me, rubbing my back in comfort.

"Then why can't he find me?"

"Raiders."

I hear my friend say, and Gob and I look up. Gob reaches for the gun on his waist, but my friend holds up his hand.

"There are two of them. Let Dez handle it."

Me? I don't even know what a Raider is. I stare at them, lost ad bewildered.

"Me? I can't do that, I don't know how…"

My friend takes the shotgun from my back and shoves it into my hands. I wrap my fingers around it, staring up at him like a lost kid. I am a lost kid, though.

"You will go. You will go _now_."

There's no time for me to argue before my friend shoves me in front of him. I look ahead to see people, there are two of them, in cool outfits. Raider armor. I used to wear it, didn't I? Glancing back, I see I'm not going to get any help from either one of them. Fumbling, I position the gun in my arms like it's an old friend. Like I had at the tower. The Raiders see me, and they yell at me. They scream, and begin to fire at me. One of them has a gun, another has a nail board. At first I panic, scared they might hit me. All it takes is a bullet to graze my cheek, and the feel of my own blood dripping down the side of my face, to send me in a frenzy.

Just like at the tower, I lost myself. It became a blur of movements, and I felt like my body wasn't even my own. It feels like…like my mind works on its own, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Indescribable pleasure flushes in my veins, and I fire the gun like it's second nature. The Raider with the nail board drops dead, a hole in her chest, a missing arm lays a few feet away. Another bullet lodges itself into my upper arm, and the rage returns to me. I turn to the Raider, the man with a goatee and messy blonde hair. I don't take mercy, I shoot, until my gun clicks, shooting blanks, shooting nothing.

The pleasure, the adrenaline, the feel of the pain, I've never felt so _alive_. The morning sun beating down on my face, the fresh smell of blood, the entire scene and feel of the scenario makes me remember. It makes me remember a time when I knew myself, when I knew what I was like. Wiping the blood from my cheek, I remember Charon beside me as we fought men in black armor. I remember hearing his cries as he reloaded his gun. I remember the rush of life I felt, as we broke into an unknown building for an unknown cause.

"You alright, kid?"

Gob's voice jolts me back to reality, and I drop my gun at my feet. The same thing happened at the tower, too. I got scared, I got scared of myself, and I panicked. I won't panic now. No, I can't.

"Yeah, yeah I'm alright."

Picking up my empty gun, I strap it back on my back. Today, I killed two people, and I didn't even know their names. Today, I scavenged their bodies for money and medical supplies, and took their armor from them. I put on shorts, I don't know the name of the armor, but it shows off my legs, it fits and shows my stomach. I feel like I know myself, when I wear it.

"You did good."

My friend tells me, and I look up at him. Blood trickles down my arm, down the side of my face, but I don't feel the pain.

"Did…did I do that before?"

"No. You usually had better aim. Most of the time they were not able to hit you, either."

But I had done it. That's all I wanted to know. This isn't the first time in my new life, where I've had to kill people with no name. Where I've had to do bad things. I'm sure it isn't the first time in my entire life, but that doesn't make it right, by any means. _Doesn't it feel oh so good, to be back?_ Who said that? I look at Gob, at my friend, but they're not paying attention to me. They're walking ahead of me, like they didn't hear it. Am I going crazy? _Oh Dez, you're no crazier than you were, don't you worry. I'm just an old friend, paying a new friend a visit. Tell me, how did it feel, killing those Raiders?_ It…it felt good. It felt right, like I _wanted_ to do it.

But…but who are you? Do I know you? What's going on? _No worries, Dez, no worries. You know me, you know me very well. I am you, Dez. Just listen, you're the only one who can hear me. Wasn't it beautiful? Wasn't it lovely? When the power of the gun washed through you, and they died, lifeless, in front of you? You're a god out here, Dez_. A god? No, no I'm not. I didn't know them, I'm sure they didn't deserve to die. What do you mean you're me? I'm me, you can't be me, what are you talking about? _I know you won't remember, but in time you will. For now, I need you to do something…_ What? Do what? I can't kill anymore people, I have no bullets. I don't want to kill anyone anymore, anyways. So stop, don't ask. _I want you to remember for me. Remember how you felt with Gunny? His hungry, ravishing hands all over that scarred and mutilated body?_ I…I remember. I remember but why? Why are you doing this? _Charon hasn't touched you, Dez. He hasn't laid a hand on you like that in months. You know he's hungry…_

Shaking my head, I blinked and looked at Gob. He looked back at me, and saw the worried expression on my face.

"Kid, what's wrong?"

I can't tell him. I can't. Even out here, were anything is possible, hearing voices is still insane. Whatever, whoever, that voice was, it's gone now. I shouldn't worry about it anymore. It was probably nothing, anyways.

"N-nothing. Forget it. How long till Underworld?"

"Two days."

My friend grumbled. Two days? That long? Nervously, I looked around the desert for any sign of…well anything. The last thing I want is to be caught out here and mauled or killed by something. _Nothing can hurt you, Dez, if you don't let it. I'm sure you'll remember soon enough, how you used to be_. What? What are you talking about? Stop it, go away. _I can't go, Dez. I am you. I am everything to you. You need me, remember? You trusted me._ No, no I don't remember. Where's Charon? You mentioned him, you must know where he is. _Ah, so stupid you can be sometimes. Because of your ignorance and stupidity, I don't feel the need to inform you of what you already know. I will tell you, however, he never loved you._ What? _A ghoul love a smoothskin? He just wanted something quick, something easy, something you gave to him with no fight or struggle…_

"No!"

I yelled, holding my head. Looking up, I saw the two ghouls staring at me, confused. Tears pushed their way in front of my eyes, and I bit my lip.

"I-I-I…"

I stuttered. Gob came over and rubbed my back as I cried, my tears hitting the dirt.

"We should go back, she can't handle this yet."

"No. We will continue on. She will learn in time."

"Its _torture, _look at her!"

"It will make her stronger, make her remember."

Gob didn't argue back. I was too busy sobbing and crying and overall just not feeling good. What gave my head the right to tell me stuff? All the right, I suppose. It does know me, better than anyone else out here at least. But why tell me such horrible, cruel and mean things?

Somehow, Gob got me to walk again. The only noises were the sounds of our feet, and my occasional sob. No one looked back at me, and eventually, the reassuring touch of Gob vanished. I have to clammy head. I have to focus on the task at hand, whatever that may be. I can't cry out here, I can't show them how scared I am. By looks of Gob, by what he told me yesterday, he needs me. He can't fend for himself very well but me, I, can. At least, that what he told me. That's what I have to rely on.

Wiping my face, I sucked in a breath of air, and pushed it down deep inside me. I pushed down all the pain, all the fright and sorrow, and let it go. The hot desert sun poked at my newly bare skin, I felt the warmth seep into my pores, and tried not to cough when the wind blew dust in my face.


	18. I'll Never Live Down My Deceit

I don't know how much time has passed. It feels like forever, forever and a day. No one is talking, no one is even looking at one another. My friend leads us, while Gob walks behind him, and I trail a few paces behind him. I feel my feet sink into the dirt, feel the dust etch it's way into my open wound on my wrist. There's so much out here, so much I don't want to see, so much to question. But I'm sure all those questions have no answers. I'm sure that they're just empty, meaningless, like I'm feeling how my life is. What's the point of living, if you're certifiably insane and have hardly any recollection of who or what you are?

Clasping the necklace around my neck, I feel it under the small shirt I wear. It's been forever, hasn't it? An entire lifetime, since I've last seen you, Charon. And I can't even remember what you look like. I can't even find comfort in memories of you holding me, because I can't remember them. I wish I could. All I can think of, is the night we had sex. At least, I think we did. I don't know, anymore. It just reminds me of…of the wrong kind of emotion. There's times for different emotions, times for lust and anticipation. Right now, isn't that time. Right now is a comfort time, something I can't ask from Gob or my friend. I can't burden them. Not now, anyways. We have a long trip ahead, I guess. Whenever I look up, I see my friend looking around like he's worried. He scans the area, and when he sees me he turns back around, satisfied.

My stomach makes a noise, telling me I'm hungry, but I don't feel like saying anything. I don't feel like eating. My feet start to get sore, but I figure if I'm going to live out here I have to ignore that, learn to live with it, get used to it. Somehow, I don't know. Looking up, I see the sun is behind me now, it'll be pretty dark soon. Dark and cold. I guess it's been a full day, I didn't even notice. Shaking my head, I look around at nothing. There's ruins of buildings, of giant structures that tower over my head, and cliffs and rocks that hide dangerous things.

Sometimes….sometimes when I sleep I dream about things. When my brain isn't flashing blurred memories at me, screaming at me to open my eyes and wake up, I dream about beautiful things. My favorite one, is of me and of someone. I know it isn't a memory, because memories aren't that beautiful. In my dream, I was crying. I was so sad about something, and I heard someone next to me, so I looked up. I looked up and say a man standing over me, his hand outstretched. I take his hand, and he pulls me up and into his arms. I'm not sure what he says exactly, but I know his words comfort me. I feel warm, I feel safe, like the end of a beautiful movie where the guy gets the girl. He laughs, and it warms me inside, and it makes me laugh too. We stay like that, entangled and laughing in each other's arms, until I wake up. Before I wake up, though, I look to see who the man is, and it's my friend. My ghoul friend who saved me.

That's probably why I'm so comfortable around him, why I let him get so close. Because when my memories don't hurt me in my sleep, he's there. He makes it easier to sleep, because he's always comforting me. That's not the only dream I've had of him, there's been a lot. It's just always the same, though. I'm always so sad, or scared, or lost, and he finds me. He tells me things will be okay, to hold on to him and none of the bad things can hurt me. I believe him. Even when I wake up, I believe him.

When he left for that week, I dreamt of him. The same things I just described, but they were vivid, like I was living it. I don't know how I know they're not memories, I just know. I guess if they were memories, I'd be able to remember them better when I woke up, but I can't. That's okay though, because when I start to dream of bad things, like my father dying, he comes. It's like he walks into my head, and fixes all the bad thing. He grabs me, and takes me away from the torture and pain. I wake up all the time, and I believe he'll keep me safe more than I did the day before. I think that's why I'm not mad at him, for lying to me. For pretending he didn't know me. Because my head knew he'd keep me safe, and chase away the bad things. I don't know if he'd do it in real life, if he'd scare away and chase off anything that wanted to hurt me or did, but I can hope. I can hope one day I'll find Charon, and these dreams will stop, because I'll have someone to hold on to. I'll have someone to pick me up and carry me away.

I have to grow up, though. As much as I want someone to save me and take me from here, I have to fend for myself. No one can save anyone from themselves, and I'm a prime example of that. I'm a prime example of everything bad in the world, and I feel that nothing I can do will fix that. I can try, though. Looking up at my friends, I realize how much of a burden I must be. They…Gob left his family to help me, my friend is taking time out of his own life, to help me. I wonder…would they be happier if I wasn't in their party?

"We should find shelter for the night."

I hear my friend say, and I accidentally bump into Gob when he stopped walking.

"Sorry."

I mutter, rubbing my cheek, but he doesn't seem to have noticed.

"We should go up there. Seems safe enough."

Gob says, pointing up a cliff. It's a steep climb up, with a high drop off. I guess that's pretty safe. I mean, whatever is out here can only get us if they climb up the steep cliff, and I'm sure that we'd hear them before they got close enough. Gob and my friend looked at me, as if they wanted my approval.

"Sure, I guess."

I don't have much to say. Hell it's been a full day and I haven't said a goddamn thing. Thing is though, there's nothing _to_ say. What would we talk about, the weather? It's hot, dry, and sunny. Well not so much anymore, the sun is starting to sink over the horizon. It'll be cold soon. I should have taken the night air into consideration when I took that Raider girl's armor. I didn't though. Oh well.

Huffing and puffing, we climbed up the steep hill. There's lots of small rocks protruding from the ground, so finding a good place to step isn't that hard. It's the incline that kills me. I slip on some loose dirt, and catch myself with my hands. Looking up I see Gob has his hand out, and he helps me to my feet.

"Careful kid, you don't want to tumble down this thing."

"Yeah. My bad."

We make it to the top, and I look out at the world below me. My friends behind me gather wood and sticks for a small brush fire, I don't want to help. I'm looking out at the world, at the city off in the distance. I guess that's where we're going, where Underworld is. Where Gob has to be. After that, I don't know. I don't know where I'm going, what I'm doing, or what to expect. That should be the fun part of life, not knowing and the anticipation of it all, but I don't think it's fun. I think it's scary.

"Hey."

I hear my friend's gravelly voice behind me, and I look. He and Gob are sitting by a small fire, and I join them.

"You've been quiet today kid."

"Nothing to say."

I mutter, staring into the flames. They dance in front of me, and the image of my dying father flashes, fresh in my mind. I see the fear in his eyes, the hurt, and I feel myself hurting inside. I'm outside, looking at him through a thick plate of glass. He whispers to me to run, run away. He looks like me, almost exactly, with his gray hair and rough stubble beard. I don't want to leave him, but someone tells me to, pulls me away from him, tearing me from his dying body. I don't know who my mother was, or even if she's alive. I just know I have no father, and therefore an orphan.

Looking up at the stars, I see them coming out, only the biggest one twinkling in the twilight. I'm alone out here, I have no family, a real orphan. I'm a burden on the people with me, a burden to the people of this world. They don't like me, that's the one thing I'm absolutely sure of. Both Gob and Lucas told me that. I guess if I knew me then too, I'd hate myself. I hate myself now for god's sake, and I don't even know who I am.

"Man I am _tired_."

Gob says, yawning and stretching. The small fire warms my cooling skin, and I see the wound on my wrist. We sit in a circle, kind of. Gob's back is to the slope, and my back is to the cliff. Everyone's tired, it seems. I can see it in their white eyes, the exhaustion of walking, of holding things inside. I don't feel tired, though. I've been here before, out in this world, sleeping by campfire. I know what I have to do now. It's just a matter of time.

So I sit. I sit patiently, and wait for them to fall asleep. Gob's the first one to slouch over, and curl up next to the fire. His snores echo loud through the desert, and I have to smirk at it. I bet he's dreaming of his family. The one he told me about, the one he says I helped. I wish I had a family to dream about, too. I wish I had someone to comfort me, like he does. When he gets home, he'll be greeted by the warm embrace of his girlfriend, and the smiling face of his son. I wish I had that kind of greeting. Hell, I wish I had a home.

My friend seems to take longer to fall asleep than Gob. He stares at me from across the fire, and it reminds me of the memory I have with us in a cave. His glare pierces through me, and I go out of my way to make sure he doesn't talk to me. I don't want to talk to anyone right now. It's too hard. Finally, after what seems like hours, when the moon is full and high in the sky, my friend lays down and sleeps. I give it a few more minutes, before I put my plan into action.

Quietly, I sift through my pack. I pull out the small shotgun, and pop it open. It doesn't echo over Gob's snores, and I'm thankful he sleeps so loudly. Tears begin to well in my eyes, as I find a single bullet at the very bottom of my pack. I'm pretty quiet when I want to be, but it doesn't help that I still make noise. Every few seconds I look back, and make sure they're still sleeping. They are. Loading in the bullet, I close the gun, and walk to the edge of the cliff.

How much of this is real? This world, where it's only survival of the fittest, it's not a world I want to be a part it. Sitting down, I let my legs dangle over the edge, void of fear. The moon is round, big, and I smile sadly at it, tears shimmering on my cheeks in the moonlight. It's beautiful, but I don't deserve it. Fingering the gun in my hands I sigh. I wish I was too dead to cry, I wish I didn't ever wake up from whatever caused me to forget. I don't play an important role in anyone's life out here, and I've helped the people I've seemingly wanted to help. So what more is there for me out there? And who wants to live a life they don't even know? I have too many flaws, or had, and not enough good points. I killed people for the fun of it, left people to the mercy of the world. I could have helped, but I didn't. I could have saved my father, but I didn't. I don't know that for sure, but something tells me I could have. Something inside me feels horribly guilty for his death, and I don't even know the details of it.

I wish I had died. I don't know what I did to deserve this life, to deserve the torture of waking up. I didn't know it, but I was better off in the Citadel. I was better off being arrogant, ignorant of the world. I wished they never kicked me out, so then I could have continued to live without knowing. Since I woke up, it seems I keep slipping farther and farther away from everything. Like reality is leaving me, becoming something I don't know, and that I don't want to know.

I wipe away the tears with the back of my hand. The shotgun stares up at me from my lap, and I take one last look at the moon. I wish I had someone out here, but I don't. I wish I had died when I got the scar above my eye, but I didn't. The wind picked up, blowing my hair up and around me. Sighing, I know there's nothing else. This isn't a movie where the guy can get the girl, this isn't a place where happiness is readily available. This place…this isn't a place for me. My last wish…is that everyone out here someday finds happiness, and that they're never bothered by me again. I think they'll be okay without me. I've had it with not knowing, with waking up every day trying to remember the memories of the night before. I'm sick of feeling like I'm chasing something that isn't there, and doesn't exist. Gob will get back to Underworld without me. My friend will be able to take him, and then lead his life like he wanted to. It's better off without me, this world. I played my part, and now I can do myself this one favor.

But then something in me rises up. The gun in smooth in my hands, and the promise it holds entices me, but there's this voice, this small, insignificant, almost invisible voice. It tells me not to, it tells me to stop. I look at the moon, tears in the corners of my eyes, wind blowing my hair everywhere. I gave, I gave so much to these people, this world, and I can't just toss it all away like this. Glancing back at my friend, at Gob, I watch them sleep peacefully. I feel like I'm the only one in this world who can change it. I feel like to them, I'm important. I mean more to them, than I could ever possibly imagine. That…that in and of itself should be enough to…to keep me going. I have to keep trying. If not for me, than for them. For the few people who do care about me, for those I have helped. I have to try.

The moon looks at me like an all seeing eye. It's cold beams of light shine down, making me shiver, but making me feel like I have a reason. If I never find Charon, if I never fully remember, that's okay. I have a friend out here, I have Gob, and if all else fails, the Brotherhood will due me in. I can't be a coward, and do myself in. That would be foolish, it would be reckless. I'm sure the person I used to be, would never have done that.

"What are you doing up?"

My friend's voice causes me to jump, and I almost drop my gun off of the side of the cliff. I catch it in my hands, quick, and hold it to my chest.

"I-I was just thinking, is all."

I hear his body move on the dirt, over Gob's snores. He comes and sits beside me, our legs dangle over the edge of the cliff, just inches from one another.

"Is something troubling you?"

I blink and look at my gun. The gun that I had planned to end my own life with.

"I'm…not sure."

I hear him light a cigarette. The flame of the lighter illuminates his face in the darkness. He puffs at it, and then hands it off to me, while lighting another one. The smoke goes into my lungs, and calms what I can't.

"You seem upset, troubled."

"No more than usual…I guess."

The stars twinkle, the moon shines.

"I see."

"You traveled with me, didn't you?"

I ask him, looking down at the far fall of the cliff. One slip, and I'd land on the rocks below, and surely break my legs and back, if I survived.

"I have told you this. I did."

"Why didn't you ever tell me, when we met?"

"I did not feel you would believe me without a second opinion."

"Oh."

I feel his eyes burning into my head. I don't want to look at him. I feel like he knows what I was going to do. Like he can read my thoughts. I turn my head away, staring off to my right, avoiding eye-contact. His hand wraps around mine, and I feel him squeeze my tiny, tiny hand. In comparison to his height, I'm so small. He can break me, his strength overpowering mine. There's comfort in that frightening strength, though. I feel safe, even safer when he touches me.

"I am surprised you are not angry with me."

"No…no I understand. I would have…probably done the same if I were you."

"I had no intention of harming you, if I did."

"You didn't."

He squeezed my hand a bit tighter, and his fingers filled the empty spaces between mine. The way his leather, fingerless gloves feel against my palm, it makes me remember. Not remember in the sense where I can actually see a memory, but I remember a warm feeling of comfort, as if he held my hand before.

"Dez, I would…like to tell you something."

"Yeah?"

"These…few days we have been in one another's presence, has been difficult for me."

"Why?"

I look at him, as I smoke my cigarette. He avoids my gaze, just as I was doing moments before.

"Because…you have changed. You are no longer the person I once knew, and it has been difficult, because you do not remember me."

"I want to remember you…"

I say, staring up at the moon.

"In time, you will."

"Why can't you tell me?"

"It is something I feel you need to remember on your own, despite my own urges."

"Urges?"

"To tell you."

"Oh."

I exhale a puff of smoke, and it lingers in front of my face before the cold wind takes it away. I can hear the dying fire behind me, crackling, burning. His hand is warm against my cold one, rough, against my smooth.

"What…what are we going to do about the Brotherhood?"

I softly ask, remembering how they want me dead.

"I have been thinking of that. After we bring Gob to Underworld, we may seek out the Brotherhood Outcasts. They will help us."

"Brotherhood Outcasts?"

"Yes. They were once members of the Brotherhood of Steel, but left once they felt Elder Lyons had forgotten his true mission."

"What was that?"

"I am not sure. However, I am aware that the Outcasts will help us. They wish to seek vengeance on the Brotherhood."

I nod, tossing my cigarette over the edge of the cliff.

"It's going to be a war, isn't it?"

"Yes. I believe so."

"…I don't…like that."

"You will be fine, if that is what you are implying."

"How do you know?"

He looks at me. Our eyes meet in the moonlight, under the night stars with the fire emitting a shadow over our faces. My heart begins to beat faster than it should, pumping hot blood to my face, making me blush for no reason. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and a small sense of pleasure flushes in my body.

"Because I am with you now. I will not let them harm you."

He tosses his own cigarette away, and with his free hand, he strokes my cheek. His thumb rubs the cut where the bullet had just grazed me. A new scar to add to my collection. I don't pull away from his touch, but like the night before, move in towards it. I want his touch, and I don't know why. It feels like I've never wanted something so badly as I want him to make me feel safe. To make this feeling last forever. Closing my eyes, I clasp my hand over his, and press my cheek into his hand more. Charon's necklace tugs at my skin, caught on my bra, under my shirt. I ignore it. Charon isn't important right now. What is important is how I'm feeling, how I've never felt so safe or sure of anything before, since I woke up I mean.

I hear him inch toward me, closing the already small gap between us. I've been here before, in this situation, I can feel it. Tears find their way out of me again, and they fall on his hand.

"Why are you crying?"

"I don't know."

I say, my voice coming out calm, smooth, soft and sultry.

"Will you smile for me, Dez?"

I open my eyes, narrowing my brows.

"Why?"

"I have missed your smile. You used to laugh, and smile often. Most of the time it was because of your own wit and sarcasm, but it was a smile, nonetheless."

So I smile. I smile and look at him. He doesn't smile back, but I can see in his eyes he's happy.

"You would often smile at me."

He tells me, brushing away another tear from my cheek. They don't fall anymore, because I'm smiling.

"You make me smile now, you must have done it a lot back then, too."

"Perhaps. Sometimes, you would smile at nothing. It was a rare thing, for you to fully smile, and shine."

"Why?"

"Yu were often troubled, upset over events that were occurring. Yet at the end of the night, when it was just you and I, you would smile at me."

My cheeks burn red, I can feel them. I'm glad he can't see it, in the darkness. Is this wrong? Is it wrong that I still love Charon but find myself growing so close to this person I hardly know? I'm lonely, he's offering me things I need. Charon should have found me by now, he should have been waiting for me.

"Remember though, I'm different now."

I tell him, reminding him that whoever I was back then, I'm not now.

"It does not change my opinion of you."

"Is that good?"

"In my eyes, it is."

I smile at him again, and close my eyes. No one's ever told me that I could find peace like this. That stuff like this actually happens and exists. Not the actions or anything, but the emotions. The feelings, the way he makes me feel so safe, like nothing in the world could ever hurt me, as long as he's with me. I don't even know his name, and he's given me so much, done so much for me. I knew him once, but I can't even give him the respect to remember his name.

"Will you still protect me, like you used to? Like you said you used to?"

"Yes."

I don't know anything about him, but I know he's strong, powerful, and well-respected. People, Gob and Roy, they walk around him with an air of respect. I can only imagine what he's capable of, with that shotgun on his back. His hand slides down to my neck, fingers tracing the welt, the scar on my neck.

"It has almost been a year since that incident, and I still have not forgiven myself."

"What happened? Will you tell me?"

"…Not tonight, Dez."

I don't argue. I accept his answer, and just relish in the feel of his hand on mine, of his hand on my neck.

"Come."

He says, and pulls me into him. His arms wrap around my small body, engulfing me in familiar scents and feelings.

"I have missed your touch, Dez."

"What about your girlfriend?"

I blurt out, without even thinking. I feel like an asshole now.

"I hope she wakes up one day, and comes back to me."

"She won't, if she finds out you're holding me like this."

"Am I making you feel uncomfortable?"

"No…but…"

"Then it does not matter."

Okay. As long as he's happy, than I can be to. As long as someone cares about me, I feel like I can keep doing this. I can keep moving, and keep my own head about myself. His arm is around my waist, holding me tight, like if he let go I'd float away.

"Charon…do you think he misses me?"

"Who?"

"Charon. Do you think he misses me?"

"Oh. Yes. I do."

"I hope you're right. I hope Gob's right. I hope…I hope I can do what I have to do."

Hope is all I have left, really.


	19. Gonna Make It Alright, But Not Now

(Charon)

She falls asleep in my lap, soft, quiet, her breathing is shallow. Gently, I lift her, maneuvering my legs from over the cliff, and picking her up. I am careful not to wake her, as I carry her towards the fire and lay her down beside it. Her body moves easily, and I watch her curl into a ball as I lay her on the soft dirt. I did not expect to get much sleep tonight, I have many things to think about.

Walking away from Gob and Dez, I stand at the edge of the cliff where Dez once sat. Tomorrow, we will reach Underworld and bid farewell to Gob. I wish that is the only thing on my mind, but it is not. The Brotherhood, they are after Dez, and I know why. They believe she has the FEV virus, one of the main reasons they kept her locked in the Citadel in the first place. Gunny was not hard to gain answers from, obviously the Brotherhood does not teach its soldiers how to act under interrogation. He confessed many things to Roy and I, confessed things that I would never have imagined, let alone suspected. With each word he sputtered after Roy laid a well-placed punch, my anger towards him grew.

Not only had he deceived Dez, but he manipulated her, played on her vulnerable state, in order to bed her. Even without the information he had given me, I wanted to kill him. I wanted to tear him limb from limb, and savor every moment of it. Yet I had to let him go, Roy and I had no other choice. He did not leave empty-handed. He left with a message, given to him by me. I told him to tell the Brotherhood I would be coming, and I would not show them the same mercy they had shown me.

The FEV virus is still in my possession. I never turned it over to Elder Lyons, nor did I ever dispose of it. I have kept it, for reasons unknown, hoping that one day it would not fall into the wrong hands. Luckily, it has not. Initially I would think the Brotherhood wants to destroy it, but as Gunny relayed, that is not the case. The Brotherhood of Steel has immense power and status among the people of the Capital Wasteland. Whatever they say is law, and everyone looks to them for security and protection. Elder Lyons is aware of this, and somewhere since his journey from the New California Republic, he has forgotten his main prerogative.

Dez plays a crucial part in their plan. She, as they believe, is the holder to the FEV, and the only one in the world crazy enough to use it as they see fit. They had hoped by keeping her contained, they would be able to manipulate her into giving them the virus, and then using her as a cover-story. They still intend to do this. They intend to do just as the Enclave wanted, make a world where only the 'pure' can survive, and purge the world of anything they see 'unfit'. Of course, their plan is not as blatant and as obvious as the Enclave's. Yet in the end, the results are the same. The Brotherhood wants to distribute the water in bottles, rather than supply it directly into the Purifier, so that they can pick and choose who lives, who dies. It is biological warfare, something I believed the world had moved past.

Yet now that Dez is beginning to remember, I suspect their plan with change. Gunny only told us everything, so I have a lot to worry about. I suspect he is at the Citadel by now, and the Knights are readying themselves to search for Dez. The city crawls with Brotherhood, getting in will be difficult, but it is not impossible. I can only hope Dez does not get cold feet, and cry about killing people. Soon, she will understand if she does not kill them, they will kill her, and think nothing of it. She will also have to realize, the Brotherhood are not, and never seemingly were, her friends.

I know as soon as the Brotherhood gets their filthy paws on Dez, the world will be a ticking time bomb. If anyone can force her to remember who she once was, it is them. I have witnessed first-hand their methods of interrogation, and Dez now is not strong enough to withstand it. They will force her to remember, even if it kills her.

However I am formulating a plan. I am aware of this small organization in the Capital Wasteland. They are called Brotherhood of Steel Outcasts. Men and women who disagreed with Elder Lyons when he began to forget his prime objective, and left the Brotherhood of Steel. They have no kind words to say about them, and I am hoping the will offer their services to us. If they do not, then it is Dez and I against an entire army. As strong as I am, and as skilled of a fighter as she is, the odds are against us. We will certainly die at their hands, but at least we will die fighting.

With Gunny back at the Citadel, they are now aware I am once again, in her presence. As I told Dez last night, that is a very dangerous thing. Elder Lyons is knowledgeable in my training, in how I was raised. After all, it was his family who began the school that created me. Over two hundred years ago, my superior, the founder of the facility, was also a Lyons. He is all too aware of what I am capable of. He dares not share this with anyone else in his faction, however, or they will share the same fear as he does. There would be mutiny, if he told his own troops the truth.

The plan stands. Tomorrow, after we bring Gob home, we will head South, where I suspect the Outcasts are. Dez and I will ask for their help, and if they help us we will begin to plan once again. Time is not on our side, we must keep moving. The Brotherhood, like Three Dog, have eyes everywhere. I would pay a visit to Three Dog, about relaying information about Dez to the people of the Capital Wasteland, but the Brotherhood are stationed there. Lyons is wise, he has planned ahead.

As long as Dez does not listen to the broadcasts, I feel they will be no problem. Three Dog will not have good things to say, especially with the lies the Citadel is telling about her. Gunny claims that they are telling people she turned on them once they saved her. Lies. All of it, lies. It is what makes me hate this world, even more. The stupidity, the disgusting manipulation that everyone has no hesitation for. I can only hope that soon, the world will be cleansed of all this debauchery and everyone can go on leading simple, plain, good lives.

I sigh, and glance behind me, glance at Dez. I stare at her in wonder, examining her body in the pale firelight. I cannot help but wonder, how did this all happen? I understand how, I was there, but I just cannot fathom it. I have to fix this mess, somehow. I do not know how exactly, though. I can help with the fight against the Brotherhood, but I do not know how I can possibly begin to fix Dez herself. Perhaps she does not need fixing, but this situation does. I cannot continue to keep my anonymity while allowing her to get close to me. However, I have no idea how I can even begin to express that I am Charon. I cannot just say it, nor can Gob tell her. It is something I feel she has to figure out on her own.

Someday, somehow, I will fix this. I will be able to provide, and give Dez the life she has longed for, and the life she deserves. After this mess with the Brotherhood is over, perhaps I can convince her to stay with me, perhaps by then she will have remembered. I hope she remembers soon. It hurts me, to stand by and witness these events as if I am just a mere bodyguard. As if I was never anything of importance to her.

Tomorrow, we will get in the city, and get out. Tomorrow, we will figure out a way to fix this. We will be alone by this time tomorrow, and maybe then I will be able to talk with her, tell her of Fort Bannister, of her actions and efforts. Maybe she will remember who I am, and maybe not. I cannot see the future, although in my long life, I wish that I could. It would have spared me much pain and suffering.

I walk over to Dez, and lay down beside her. Tonight, I will allow myself the pleasure of believing she remembers me. That nothing has changed, and we are simply escorting Gob back to Underworld. I can allow myself this one pleasure, as long as I do not forget it is only an illusion, and not reality.


	20. I Hope I Won't Forget You

Run. Run. Faster, faster, run. I can hear my heart beating in my ears, and I cover my head to avoid an exploding grenade. It sends a bunch of concrete into the air, and I hear my friend firing off round while running behind me.

"Get down!"

He screams, and tackles me to the ground. I feel him covering my head with his arms, protecting me, keeping me safe. Fuck. I can't believe this, I can't. It's madness all of it. I feel his weight over me, protecting me from a blast, and a hail storm of rocks and dust.

"Go! Go!"

Don't have to tell me twice. He pulls me to my feet, and I pushes me ahead of him while he continues to shoot into the smoky background. I can't see three feet in front of me, and I can't breathe, either. The dust from all the grenades is too thick, but I can't stop. Expertly, I dodge pieces of concrete, jump over trash cans, and maneuver as if I know what's ahead.

"Get back here!"

I hear Vargas scream, like his life depends on it. Damn them all to hell. All we were doing was bringing Gob home, that's it. That's it. My friend was really worried about being in the 'mall' as he calls it, because it's overrun with Super Mutants and Brotherhood of Steel Knights. We tried not to make any noise, and we were able to get in the Museum of History without a problem. Getting out, was the hard part.

I'm not sure exactly how it happened, really. I just know a Super Mutant saw us, me really, and went berserk. Of course, all that commotion caused the Brotherhoods stationed at the Washington Memorial to investigate and lo and behold, we are found. Vargas is part of that group, too, which is even worse for me. He tried to get me to go with him by using sweet words and 'remember when's'. All I could think about was the lies they all told me, all the hurt and pain they caused me. Then, it goes black, and I find my gun in my hands, and a Brotherhood member dead in front of me. I know what happened, though, and that's why they're chasing us, using full force.

They don't care if they kill me. I realized this as I kept running, looking back every once in a while to make sure my friend was still there, still alive really. I feel my foot catch something on the ground, and I topple forward, my body sliding over the concrete. Pain rushes through my body, but the adrenaline cancels it out. Scraping my knees on the pavement, I pick myself up. My gun flew out of my hands, and I grab it, running and hearing an explosion near my head.

"Shit!"

I scream and cover my head. I hear the sound of my friend firing off more rounds, and yelling obscenities at the Brotherhood Knights. Vargas' Mini-Gun whirrs in the air, and I hear it powering up to take us out. I stop running and look behind me, my friend runs towards me, his shotgun tight in his hand.

"_Run_!"

He hisses, grabbing my arm and dragging me behind him. I have to take such long strides to keep up with him, but if I don't I'll fall, he'll be dragging me. We have to get to the Metro tunnel across the way, or something. There was one right in front of the Museum, but we strayed from it when the Super Mutant attacked us. I can hear bullets bouncing around me, ripping through the dust, as we run. In the midst of the chaos, I see the tunnel entrance coming up in front of us, and I feel relieved.

"Go! "

He screams, and tosses me down the stairs. My body bounces, falling down the steep mental steps, and I land on the pavement again, coughing. Looking up, I see my friend shooting at Vargas. I don't know what's worse, seeing my friend now fighting my friend from the past, or knowing that one of them isn't getting out of this alive.

"Come on!"

I scream, finding the strength to pick up my heavy body from the ground. I run to the gate, and throw myself into it. It opens, it's not locked. I stand at the entrance, panting, looking. My friend takes one last shot with his shotgun, and turns, running down the stairs. He charges at me, and comes through the gate. Together we slam it shut, and escape down the dark passages, not slowing down, we just keep running.

Finally, we stop. I toss my pack on the ground, panting. Damn. I didn't expect that to happen. I didn't think the Brotherhood really wanted me dead. My lungs are screaming at me, hurting and I'm sure they're blistering.

"Dez…"

My friend gasps between breaths. I look up at him, still hunched over on my knees.

"Are you okay?"

He asks, wiping sweat from his forehead. I see holes and tears in his armor, but no blood. Good.

"Just…just a few scrapes and road rash…"

I say, straightening myself. My palms, knees, and elbows scream at me, and I feel blood trickle down. A layer of grime coats my skin, from the dust. I've never felt so scared before. Shit. I've never felt…so _alive_. My body just knew what to do, even in that state, it just knew. Wiping off my forehead, I sighed, and looked at my friend. He was messing with a scrape on his arm, picking away the dead flesh, and poking at his muscle.

"Hey, come here."

I said, and reached for him. I can't see in the dark, but I messed with my Pip-Boy and got the light to work. Holding his arm close to my wrist, I looked at the wound. It's not big, it's not serious, just a scrape. But something inside of me wanted to make it better, fix it, care for his minor injuries. I looked up into his milky white eyes, and smiled, a bit shy.

"It…doesn't look bad."

"It is not."

He jerked his arm from me, and strapped his gun to his back. My body started to shake, probably an after-effect of adrenaline, or something. I rubbed my arms, the grime making a strange feel against my hands.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Vargas. It took less than a second for my friend and I to look at one another, and for us to run. My friend took the lead, leaping down the old stairs, and taking his gun from his back. I didn't try to copy his maneuvers, my legs just aren't that long. I kept up with him best I could, but even that didn't seem good enough. He seemed to always be one step ahead of me, and I was always two steps behind whatever he was doing.

My adrenaline kicked back in, and I felt my legs numb beneath me. A bullet bouncing off of the wall beside my head reminded me this was a life or death situation. Instinctively, I covered my head, but kept running. Looking ahead of me, I saw my friend looking back, his eyes set and focused on a target I couldn't see. Run, that's all that's on my mind right now. I'm too scared to look back, too scared to see if Vargas is closing in on me.

But why does this not scare me like it should? I feel like I should…I should be terrified, frozen in my tracks, but I'm not. I bet it's because of my old life. I bet I ran like this from tons of enemies, from people, from monsters that populate this world.

"Hey!"

I felt a hand grab the back of my shirt, and pull me off of my feet. Without thinking, without processing, I started kicking and flailing my arms furiously. I felt my fist connect with bone, with flesh, but they didn't let me go. I felt their hand cover my mouth, and they pulled me into a dark room, closing a door in front of me.

"Shh!"

The smell of leather penetrated my nostrils. I stopped resisting, stopping screaming and fighting. My friend, it's just my friend.

"Where'd they go?"

"I don't know!"

"Go down, and _don't_ stop until you find them! I'll report back to Lyons."

"Damnit Vargas!"

"Hey! You're an Initiate, you do as I say!"

"Whatever."

The Knights. They were just outside this door, behind the door that hid me from them. I felt my heart race, as my friend kept his hand tight around my mouth, and shotgun aimed at the door. I could feel his heart racing against my back, pushing through his armor. Closing my eyes, I tried to force the fear away, force it back into the darkness of my mind. I kept my eyes closed as tight at I could, until the Initiate's footsteps were too far away for me to hear.

Slowly, my friend's hand slid from my mouth. He kept his arm around my shoulders, holding me to his chest. I watched the outline of the barrel of his shotgun slowly drop to his thigh. I sighed, letting my head drop and feeling the familiar sensation of soreness rise up from my legs.

"That was close…"

I muttered, whispering. My friend hesitated a bit, before he took his arm from my shoulders and his chest off of my back.

"Yes."

My Pip-Boy light permitted some glow to the room, but not much. Not as much as I wanted, needed, to feel safe. Turning around, I looked at the small room. It's no bigger than…well than a large closet, really. But it's big enough for the two of us to move around. But if I sit at one wall, and he sits at the other, our legs will touch. Too small, too small, I don't like small places. This, though…this seems familiar.

"How…how long do we have to stay here?"

I saw my friend sit down in the far corner of the room, crossing his legs beneath him. He sighed loudly, looking around. Why…why does this seem so familiar to me?

"Hours, perhaps. We must wait until it is safe. Then we can continue on to Fort Independence."

"Fort what?"

I sat down in the middle of the room, my legs screaming at me. I feel nervous, but not scared, with my back to the door.

"The Brotherhood Outcasts base. Fort Independence. If we come out at Sewer Waystation, it will not be a far walk."

"I've…heard of them I think…"

He cast a look to me, and I sighed.

"They…they disbanded from the Brotherhood of Steel…because…of Lyons, right?"

"Yes. Hopefully, they will recognize you, and not be hostile towards us. We need their help in infiltrating the Citadel."

Right. Even though Vargas and all his team just chased me down and damn near killed me, I had forgotten that we're going to…get them.

"Do you know why they want me dead? Do you?"

"Now is not the time for talk."

I frowned. He _never_ wants to talk, never wants to tell me _anything_. Why? I don't know. It's not fair, though. I want to talk, I want to know. It's my life, and I'm not mad at him for keeping it from me. He should be really happy I'm not mad, because I have every stinkin' right to be.

"You never want to talk to me or fill me in on anything."

"Because I am hoping that it will become clear to you on your own."

I hit the ground with my fists, feeling the familiar anger rise up in me.

"It's _not_! Don't you get it? I'm _never_ going to remember it all. Whatever I was to you, whatever we did together, and anything else is _gone_. I'll never remember it, so why don't you just _tell_ me?"

Tears pushed up in my eyes, but I flushed them back. I'm not going to cry now, not now. I'm just going to…to ignore everything. Ignore that the people I once called 'family' now want me dead, ignore that the person I'm travelling with won't tell me anything, and ignore how much this whole situation bothers me. I really wish I was dead, sometimes. Trying…trying is just too hard. I can't keep doing this, running for my life, running from everything, when even the most basic of memories and actions seem so complicated.

Thinking about it, makes it harder. It's better if I'm just thrown into something, like the attack that just happened. Because then my body just _knows_ what to do. I can't explain it, I really can't. It's like…like I didn't need someone to teach me how to shoot a gun, because I just _knew_. I knew to run, to keep running, and my body endured at lot of strain, without much after-effect. I know as these days go on, it'll just get worse, harder for me. How would you feel, if you were with someone who knew everything about you, but didn't tell you anything? It wouldn't feel nice. It hurts, it feels a lot like betrayal. Like he's purposely keeping things from me, and using my head injury as an excuse not to tell me.

"Because I am hoping one day you will remember."

Biting my lip, I looked at him. I gave a sad smile, and looked at the floor.

"How do you know I will? How can you hope for something so…so _stupid_?"

"You used to bite your lip in the past, as well. Small traits you used to have are beginning to show through. You may not see it, but I do."

"Those aren't memories, those are ticks, actions."

"It is something."

He's right. Something is always better than nothing, I guess. Running my fingertips over the smooth floor, I played with the pebbles I picked up.

"Is it something that this room seems so familiar to me?"

"Yes."

I looked around again. It didn't feel like I've been here, but it was a feeling close to that. Like…I don't know.

"I've been in a room like this before, haven't I?"

I said, looking at him. He nodded in the dim, green glow, and I sighed.

"Sick…sick I remember feeling really sick. Just thinking about it makes my stomach churn."

Putting a hand on my shoulder, under my shirt, I traced the scar above my heart.

"From this. This…made me really sick, and…I stayed in a room like this."

"Yes. You remember?"

"No…no but…but I know. I know it, I just can't see it."

Closing my eyes, I tried to play on the feelings of sick that I was getting. I tried to make my mind create an image for me. All I got was…was a feeling of comfort. I felt someone was with me in the image, and I felt their body behind mine, and I…I felt like they were keeping me safe.

"Were…you were with me, weren't you?"

He nodded, lighting a cigarette.

"I have always been with you, Dez. You will remember that too, I hope."

I was in a room like this before. I was sick, from the infection I got from this very scar. He was with me. He kept me safe, kept the sick from…from making me go crazy. Whatever was in my head, he made it better. I remember the feelings, not so much the images, but the feelings. I remember…aside from the insane feeling of nausea and dizziness, warm, safe, comfort and…and something soft and kind.

Smirking, I looked at my friend, clearing my hair from my face.

"Did I ever thank you…for being around and helping me so much?"

"There was no need."

"Why?"

I hoped he didn't brush it off. I hoped just this once, he'd tell me. That he'd stop answering my questions with metaphors or questions.

"Alright. I will tell you."

I don't think I've ever listened so intently before. I leaned in towards him, hanging on his every word. Names, a name, stuck out in my mind. Ahzrukhal. The feeling of extreme rage, anger, came to me when I heard him say that name. I closed my eyes while he talked, and each word seemed to have…have something tied to it. A blurred image, a scene, something. He talked about a contract, how I 'saved' him from Ahzrukhal, and eventually became friends. I smiled, and opened my eyes a bit, when he expressed how much I had annoyed him when we first met.

My friend…told me a lot of things. He told me a few short sentences on his background and life, and when he did I remembered a green computer screen. I don't know why, I can't see what's written on the screen, but I remember feeling very upset over looking at it. He told me at first he was obligated, honor-bound, to protect my life at any and all costs, despite how angry I made him. Then, he said, it changed. He said he started feeling. I guess emotions weren't enforced at whatever facility he was brought up in. He told me that he began to realize the line between 'having' and 'wanting' started to blur, and that he soon came to 'want' to protect me.

I remember…such strong emotions. I remember a fire, and water. I remember feeling so scared, with someone standing over me, but at the same time I remember I loved it. I wanted whoever was hurting me to end me. It made me sad, to think I've actually felt the same way before. But then, the fear, the sadistic want of the pain, was replaced by…by the feeling of protection. Of someone always looking after me.

His voice drifted, and soon stopped. His last sentence was 'and then…well, we were friends'. Opening my eyes, I looked at him, registering all of the small images, all of the emotions.  
"What happened…to your contract?"

"Burned it."

He said it so casually, like it was a thing of the past that didn't matter. Well, it is the past, but the way he spoke it was like that piece of paper was his entire life.

"Why…why'd you burn it?"

"Because I had no more use for it."

"I remember…Ahzrukhal. Not, not entirely, but I remember being angry at him. I remember you killed him."

"That I did."

"And…and I remember always feeling really safe. You…you always looked out for me?"

"Yes. There was not a time when I was not keeping a watchful eye on you. It is still the same way."

I'm embarrassed now. I'm ashamed that I don't remember him. We had such a…close friendship. I bet he feels really insulted, really angry at me. After all he's done for me, and I can't even remember anything about him, not even his name. It's downright shameful.

"I'm sorry…"

"For what?"

"Not…not remembering who you are."

I looked at him, fumbling with my hands. He simply shrugged, looking away from me.

"You remember enough to give me hope."

"Will you…will you tell me about Charon?"

If he travelled with me, then…then he would know Charon. Maybe they were best friends, and he introduced me to him. I pleaded with my eyes, leaning forward and begging him to just _tell_ me about myself. I just need to know. My friend seemed to stiffen up, he crossed his arms, and looked around the room nervously.

"What…what would you like to know?"

Thank you.

"Anything, anything that might help me find him, please."

"What do you remember about him?"

I frowned, and crawled over to a wall. Pressing my back against it, I sighed.

"Not much…just emotions, really. My head, it's filled with memories, really. I just can't _see_ them. I can feel them, and touch and taste and every other sense except see. Well and hear, I can't hear much. But I mean, when Gob was telling me about stuff, I could just _see_ some of it, and other times just feel it. I don't know how to explain it. But…I guess a good way is I don't remember playing the piano, ever, but I remember _how_ to play the piano. D'ya understand?"

I looked at him, hoping he would.

"Yes. I understand."

"I won't forget you again. I promise. I won't."

"I know."

"Will you tell me about Charon? About where I could find him?"

My friend lit another cigarette, and handed it to me. I took it, thankful. Maybe it would help calm me down. Looking around the room, I anticipated his words.

"It is useless to keep looking for him, Dez. He will come to you, in due time."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know him."

My heart didn't know if it should sink or swim. I don't know if I should be angry, or happy. All these emotions, they're too confusing, too…too obnoxious.

"You…you do?"

"Yes."

"Gob wasn't lying, when he told me he was a ghoul…"

"No, he was truthful in all that he told you. Gob has never lied to you in the past."

"…Why would he leave me, then? I'm human, ghouls, no offence, aren't that great to look at. Why would he leave me alone, in the Citadel, if he loved me?"

"Perhaps he had no other choice, and knew it was for the best despite the outcome."

"I don't…I don't know."

I sucked on the filter of my cigarette, pondering, wondering, confusing myself. So many things, so many memories, an entire lifetime, lost. Gone to…to where? They're still there, in the back of my mind. I did my reading by candel light in my room at the Citadel. Memories are always present within your mind, it's just the neurons of your brain can't reach them. The synapses and all that mind crap is damages. But they're there, just waiting, waiting for something to stimulate them.

The book I read said people with amnesia, like me, react to outside stimuli. They're more likely to remember an incident if it is on the same emotional level as they are feeling. I guess maybe that's why when I'm feeling happy, I remember happy times with Charon. Well not 'times', but…happy emotions. I know, it's confusing.

"Are you alright, Dez?"

My friend's voice came to me, and took me from my own head. He's good for doing that, I realized. Saving me from my own mind and all.

"What about us?"

I blurted out, letting smoke drift from my mouth. My friend looked at me, confused.

"What about us?"

He repeated.

"I…I mean what about you and I? Did we…I mean…it's just I feel so safe with you. I let you get close to me, and touch me, and…the way my body reacts to it all…"

He sighed heavily, but didn't look at me. Stubbing my cigarette out on the concrete floor, I began to crawl over to him. He opened his arms to me, and I fit myself under his arm, against his thigh and torso. Resting my head on the crook of his body, where the shoulder and arm meet, I looked up at him in the glow.

"Like this. This…it feels…like it's good. Like it's the safest place for me."

"That is because it is."

"But…_why_? I don't mean because you'll keep me safe, but _why_ does it feel like this?"

"You will see, one day, Dez."

"Is there, was there, something about us? Something Charon didn't know?"

He looked at the wall he was sitting against. He looked at everything in the room, the empty room, besides me. I felt his body stiffen, felt him move from me, and stand up. The warm feeling went away when he did, and I frowned.

"Perhaps it is now safe to leave."

"No. No, tell me. Did we…what was it that makes me feel so…so…"

"So what?"

"So comfortable and secure and…and…I don't know!"

He gave me a look, a sad one, and offered me his hand.

"Come."

I took his hand, and he pulled me to my feet. I expected him to let me go, to turn around and open the door so we could make it to whatever fort he had mentioned. But he didn't. He pulled me into him, and wrapped his arms around my body, pressing my face into his chest. I felt his lips on the top of my head, felt his hands entangle in my hair, and I closed my eyes.

So safe, so warm. I don't ever want to leave. If life ever has a perfect moment, this would be it. I have no idea why, no idea what events could have happened that could have made me feel this way, but I like it. I want it. Tears stain and rip through the grime on my cheeks, but they aren't sad tears. I'm not sure what kind of tears they are, but they're not sad.

"I lost a friend, Dez, when I lost you."

I kept my eyes tightly closed, and pressed my face into him.

"I have been used to kill and save lives, but I have never truly known the value of a life, until I met you."

His grip on my body tightened, his voice made my head feel warm, his lips just centimeters from my scalp.

"I have stayed up with you many nights, I have witness you crying, witnessed your anger, and held you close when the cold desert winds showed no mercy. I have fought with you, laughed with you, trained you and stood by you when everyone else in the world turned away."

He's saved my life, in more ways than one.

"I have kept you safe, from the dangers of the Capital Wasteland, from yourself, from the people who had once claimed to be your friends. You, for the first time, had shown me how to truly save a life. That it is not by protecting one from a stray bullet, or killing the friends of their enemies, but by staying through the night. By riding through the storm, and waking up to see that person beside you still. I have been with you, and endured many things with you. This is just another obstacle we have come to, and I do not intend to let you fight it alone."

He…my friend…did so much for me. I remember this, being close to him. I remember being in a place filled with pretty lights, crying. I was so sad, and the only reason I can think is because…because of my dad. I hated crying back then, I remember that. But, but I cried then. For the first time, I think, I cried. He was there, I remember. I remember he held me like this, under those pretty lights, and listened to me cry and wail. He stayed with me through the night, I remember. The feeling of a mattress under my body, the feeling of him against me as I cried, and me holding onto him for dear life. I cried for my dad that night, cried and showed weakness, but he stayed. He stayed with me, and made it all better.

"Promise you won't leave?"

I said, sighing, opening my eyes and blinking. My cheeks feel itchy and wet from my tears.

"I have never left you."

"What…what about my head?"

He pulled away from me, just enough so he could see my face. The green light made everything seem…twisted, romantic in a sick way. I felt him take his hand, and place his thumb over the scar. He looked at it, like he was remembering, rubbing it like he wanted it to go away.

"That was the only time, I ever left you alone."

His hand dragged down the side of my face. The leather, fingerless glove was smooth against my cheek, his fingers rough and coarse. H stroked my cheek, making my heart race and beat inside my chest. I felt his thumb graze over my lips, and I closed my eyes. Absentmindedly, I puckered my lips, kissing his thumb. I wanted to, I think. Something inside of me, it told me to. It told me to stand on my tip toes and kiss him. But I won't, I didn't, because there's Charon. Because there's a bad reason for these strong emotions, there's something about us he's not telling me. It feels so wonderful, though. It feels amazing, like I could fly, like my body is liquid.

His thumb stops for a minute, when he feels my lips press against it. I half-expected him to keep it there, but he didn't. He let it rest on my chin, cupping my face. Compared to me, compared to even the Brotherhood Knights in their Power Armor, he's big. He's tall, strong, you don't need to see the muscle under the armor to know that. I wrap my arms around his waist, and feel my nails dig into the old leather, clasping around the belts he wears. If anyone tries to hurt me, if anyone makes me cry, I'll just do this. I'll run to my friend, and hide behind him, until he makes whatever upset me, whatever hurt me, go away.

It feels like forever, since I've felt this way. I guess in reality, it must be a forever. A forever of a lifetime ago. I feel like I actually have something, like there's someone out here who cares if I live or die.

"Dez?"

He strokes my chin with his thumb, his other arm around my waist. Opening my eyes, I see his face, his eyes, staring down at me. I blink, and even in the dark, I feel like I'm seeing him clearly.

"Why does this feel so good?"

I ask him, and he traces the corners of my mouth with his thumb. His eyes dart back and forth, he's looking at me. Examining me.

"We should move to Fort Independence quickly. We do not want the Brotherhood of Steel to catch up to us."

I don't want to let him go. I don't want him to let me go. I feel his hand slip away, and I grip on his belt, stubborn.

"No, stay. We can stay, it's late…we can stay."

"Night will be the best time for us to travel."

I sniff, tears obscuring my vision. I've never felt so comforted before, don't take it away now. Since I left the Citadel, all I've seen are bad, hurtful things. For once, just once, I want to feel something that isn't bad. Something that doesn't make me hurt or want to cry or kill people. Something…something just like Charon used to make me feel.

"Please…"

It's no use. He pulls away from me, and picks his shotgun up from the floor. I take my pack from his hands, and strap it to my back, my gun in my hand. I've lost my mind once, and in small snippets, it feels like it's back. That was one of those snippets. I felt like I was…like I had…I don't know. It just felt _right_. There's no other way to describe it, no other way to form it in my head. It just worked, and I didn't want him to take it away from me.

But we do have things to do. We do have to get out of here, away from the Brotherhood, and walk towards the Outcasts. We have to ask for help, we can't just stay in this small room, and pretend like it's all okay. I want to, though. As I follow him out into the tunnels, into the bright light of the underground system, there's nothing I want more, than to feel that feeling again. That feeling, only Charon's been able to give me, that feeling he made come back for just a moment. That feeling…I want it back…


	21. I Just Want You to Know Who I Am

(Charon)

The Outcasts have agreed to aid us in our infiltration. Our first encounter upon arriving at Fort Independence was with one named Anne Marie Morgan. Dez and I successfully aided her in a fight against two Raiders. Dez, being trapped and dazed in her old mindset, took the Raiders on with little to no help from myself or Anne. I was proud of her, in that moment.

However it was very short lived. Anne was not happy to see Wastelanders, nor was she pleased that we showed more combat skills than she. Our encounter came very close to battle, when Dez uttered a snide remark. It was I who stopped the escalation. I did not want to, because for an instance, Dez was her old self. I did not want to lose that.

Anne, upon hearing why we sought the Outcasts, directed us to speak to one named Henry Casdin. I assumed him to be their leader, and was proven right. Unlike Anne, this man was not hostile, but talked to us with an air of defense. He kept his weapon close to him, until we holstered our own. I spoke with him about our plan, and told him as much as I could with Dez being present. He nodded slowly, hearing my words, listening to a ghoul. I did not expect him to understand, but to my shock, he did. He agreed with us that Elder Lyons has in fact gone mad with power, and must be stopped at all costs. He claimed he has seen the effects of the Brotherhood when one angers them, and it is not what the Brotherhood of Steel stands for.

Along with their agreement to help our cause, Henry offered to train Dez in combat. I did not argue, and suggested to her it would be in her best interest. Henry was aware of Dez, an avid listener of Galaxy News Radio, and eyed the scar above her right eye with a knowing suspicion. Dez agreed to the training, but I saw fear in her eyes when two other Outcasts came in the room to lead her out. Henry told her that we would attack in roughly a week, and she needed to learn fast. I agreed with his words. When Dez left, Henry radioed and called all Outcasts to return to Fort Independence.

Within a day, all the Outcasts had arrived. Small in numbers, but strong in weaponry. Henry explained to them the plan, and many of them seemed pleased if not relieved to hear they would finally take down the very people who shunned and oppressed them. The troops have been training day and night now, for four days. It seems no one here sleeps. Henry gave a room inside Fort Independence for Dez and I to share, aware of our past relations.

I took it upon myself, however, to inform Henry of the truth when Dez was not around. I told him about the FEV virus, and about how Dez does not remember who I am, and to her I am simply 'her friend'. He, again to my shock, understood. In his age and experience, I see there is wisdom and understanding. For this, I am grateful. Henry has taken very good care of Dez these past four days, and she has gone every night to Anne, who doubles as the doctor on call.

Each night, Dez returns to me, smiling and excited that she is still healthy and so well adapt in her training. It has become so routine, that I look at the door to our room each night at the same time, and seconds later she comes in, holding her medical papers, proud. The Outcasts have discovered her ability to heal by radiation, and have been researching a Stimpack filled with goo from a Glowing One for Dez to carry into the battle. So far, their research has been successful.

Night has fallen, and I see from the window the troops beginning to build a small fire. It is the calm, before the storm. Henry has allowed them one night of freedom, a break from training, to drink and be merry. Yet I cannot share in their merry banter. I watch Dez fumble and fall with the troops. She is recognizable before taking off her helmet, because she is the only one of them who stiffly walks, not yet use to the burden =of her Power Armor. I watch her from the window on the upper floor, in the medical room, and watch as she takes her armor off with them. It is a rare moment for me, feeling such peace.

"Charon?"

I turn to view Anne standing behind me. She dawns her lab coat, her thick hair tied back into a tight bun. The Outcasts only call me by name when Dez is not present. It is a nice refresher, to now respond to my own name, other than 'hey' or whatever Dez uses to get my attention.

"Yes? What is it?"

I came to see Anne early this morning. Lately…I have not been feeling well. My body feels like it has a delay, like it is not my own. It is not as fast as it once was, and this worries me. Anne agreed to take blood, skin, and tissue samples for testing. I have spent the better part of today, in this room, watching Dez train through that dirty window, and awaiting what Anne finds.

"I have the results from your tests. Would you like to hear them?"

One thing I have noticed from my time spent here, is that the Outcasts do not belittle me. Henry is knowledgeable of what I am, who I am, due to Lyons talking too loud. He told his troops when they all arrived, that I am more of a soldier than they can ever wish to be, and expects them to show me the utmost respect. Yet I do not sense it is forced from them. Rumors of me has spread, talk about my actions has reached their ears and lips, and they view me in the same rank of their leader. I am appreciative of this.

"Yes."

"Please, I suggest you sit."

I take a seat, and Anne seats herself beside me. She holds a clipboard in her hands, looking it over carefully.

"Charon, I'm afraid I have some…bad news."  
"What is it?"

"…I don't exactly know how to say this, or even know what to make of this. But, I guess I've kept you in suspense long enough."

Her voice lingers, it soothes my nerves like a mother's voice does a child.

"Charon, from what I've gathered, it seems you have a mutated form of…well, cancer."

I hold back a snide remark, and look into her black eyes.

"Then I will make sure to sit in some radiation before we head out."

A cure for cancer was discovered over two hundred years ago, before the Great War. It has carried on through the times, as well. Not only that, but any illness ghouls contract can be healed by radiation.

"No, you see that's the thing I can't quite understand. Charon, the cancer is _from_ the radiation. Sitting in it would only speed up it's process."

The news shocks me. Cancer brought on by radiation in the Capital Wasteland is about as common as seeing grass, or even snowfall, in the desert. It does not register in my mind. I run my hand over my face, and look at her.

"What does this mean for me?"

I hear myself ask. Cancer, from radiation, it does not sit well.

"…Charon I strongly suggest you stay here. I can do more research and try to find a cure, if not something to slow the process down, but overexerting yourself by fighting would only make it worse."

"What about Dez?"

Even in my most downtrodden and pitiful moments, Dez is first in my mind.

"Dez is fine, why do you ask?"

"Because of her similar immunity. Anyways that is not the problem if she is fine. I am going to fight when the time comes, you cannot stop me."

"Charon this is serious. If you are infected, there's no telling how many other people could be. Radiation is like oxygen out here, there's no avoiding it. I will stay back with you, and perform the necessary tests and observations that will help with finding a cure."

"No."

I stand and walk away from her. I glance out the window, lighting a cigarette, I see Dez. Music floats from the singing men and women, and Dez laughs, smiling brightly, talking with an Outcast member. Her happiness, makes nothing else matter.

"You will _die_."

"I swore to Dez I would not leave her. She is not mentally stable to handle the stress a fight like this promises. I must be there for her."

"You are not physically capable of surviving through that stress, Dez is. Dez will have a team around her, protecting her. She is the priority for them."

"She is _my_ priority."

"You have a slim chance of walking out of this alive, if you choose to go."

I turn to Anne, sighing loudly. My black shirt stretches with my intake of air, the expansion of my chest. I have not worn the top half of my armor all day, and I feel free.

"Then do me a favor."

"What?"

"Order one of your men to shoot me somewhere, so that Dez believes I died in battle."

"You're not going to tell her?"

Anne does not understand. No one here understands. I am the only solid thing that poor girl has left. She has no mother, she has no father, she has no recollection of anything worth remembering. She has told me in our time it is all blurs, noises, and emotions. There is no way I can tell her, the only person out here, is going to die. I just do not see myself breaking that kind of news to someone as mentally fragile as her.

"I do not know, Anne."  
"Charon, please. I really feel you need to stay here. Look, make an excuse, I'll give a fake x-ray to say you broke your leg and can't go, but please _stay_."

"No."

A fighter. A warrior. A soldier. It is all I once knew, it is what I was bred and born to be. If I do not fight, then what am I? Am I simply a hollow shell of something I once was? I cannot be there for Dez as I used to be, she is still hazy on the details, too restrained in her feelings. I must fight, if not for Dez, then for myself.

I pick my armor up from the floor, and push past Anne. I will no longer hear her pleas, my mind is made up. My footsteps echo down the hall, and I toss my armor into the room Dez and I share. Death, dying…is it all too soon. It has never occurred to me. I never expected myself to die in battle, I am far too well-trained, far too skilled for that. When I became a ghoul, time seemed to mesh together. Time is not a part of my life, it has not been for over two-hundred years. Anyone who has lived that long understand, death and time become irrelevant.

Ghouls know one day, we will die. That day, however, is never set in stone. There is always radiation, always a fix, always something to prolong our lives. We are the first, the last of a dying breed, a dying generation. I have seen the world change so many times, I feel like I am walking on a well-used woman. Yet now, upon hearing this, upon hearing that death has never been closer to me, time is valuable. I have short days, we will fight in three. I must…make amends, I must prepare. More importantly, most importantly, I must win back Dez.

If not for her, I never would have known what it was like to truly live. I have lived for nothing, for no one, but her. Standing in the entranceway to Fort Independence, I watch the party continue from a safe distance. The large fire burns brightly against the black night sky, and it contrasts with the smoke I exhale from my cigarette. Men sing an old, Irish folksong, and they drink, happy and free of their inner demons.

Death is so close. My body, it will shut down, and there is nothing I can do to prevent it, to stop it. Suddenly, in the midst of my thoughts, I look over. I look, and I see her. I see Dez, against the full silver moon, laughing. She holds a beer in her wrist, the one with the muscle exposed. For the first time in my entire life, for the first time since I came from my mother's womb screaming, naked, and filthy, I smile. In times where I have every reason to be angry, to cry, to show such negative emotions, I smile. It is unfamiliar to me, and I feel much like an idiot, but I do not care. I smile at her, whilst I smoke my cigarette. If I now have to die so soon, then the life I have led was worth it.

It has been worth it, because Dez made it so. I have been nothing but a tool, a weapon for people to use for their own benefits. Yet to Dez, I was a person, I am a person. I once was someone dear to her, someone close and for that, I smile. I smile because she has looked at me once more, because she allows me to touch her, to get close to her as she used to. She allows me to hold her close in the darkness of the night, and fills my senses with pleasure, love, allusion. Tonight, I will not join in their merry, but I will smile. I only wish Dez, my Dez, the old Dez, could have seen this. It makes me smile more, to think of how she would react to it.

It is a rare moment, right now. One I have never witnessed, or been able to. It feels as if my entire body is finally at ease. My mind, conscious and aware, yet I feel forgiven for what I have done. I feel that…the things I have done in the past no longer matter. What matters now, is how I live out these last few days, and how I present myself to those around me. I have never been one to sulk, never been one to show weakness or fear. This sickness, it will not hinder that. I will act as if I do not have it. I will go about my next days, living and trying to help Dez in any way I can. If the time comes where she asks of Charon, then I will tell her.

I will stand before her and proudly say that I am Charon. That I am the man she once loved, that she held close and depended on for every miniscule thing. The courage I need, it is present now, but I am aware that when the time comes, it will not be. I will be fearful then, and worrisome of the outcome. The smile that was once so present, has suddenly faded. I can kid myself all I want, but reality is still here. I am sick. I will soon die.

I toss my cigarette into the sand, and begin my walk up to the fire. I will linger back, and observe, but be close enough so Dez feels safe. The hardest part of this, I feel, is leaving her. She will hopefully move on with her life, find somewhere quiet, and settle down. Perhaps she will find love once again, and raise a family. Yet as I watch her, the heat of the fire warming my black shirt, I can tell Dez is not the family type.

She speaks with the troops, laughs with them, and stumbles over small rocks hidden in the dirt. Three Dog is playing a stream of upbeat music, and some people dance. I linger in the background, observing, watching. I want to focus, soak and take all of this in. It may be the last night I see Dez so happy, smiling to bold.

"You should be inside, resting."

I stop myself from knocking Anne to the ground, possibly shattering a few bones in her face. She speaks soft, quiet. I cross my arms.

"It would be wise not to sneak up on me like that."

"Charon, you need _rest_. Look, I'm starting research on a cure tonight, but going into that fight is _suicide_."

"Do not speak my name out here. Dez might hear."

Anne turns to me, her face tells me she is serious. I listen.

"Is all you ever worry about her? Is she really that important where you will risk you own life to spare her some mental stress?"

"Yes. She is."

"I understand you used to…erm…you and her were once something. But that was _months_ ago. You would not believe what I've seen in her scans. Her brain, rather her frontal lobe, is severely damaged. She's lucky to even be _alive_ let alone up and walking and _remembering_ things."

"All the more reason for me to go with her."

"That is not my point. My point is, she is _never_ going to remember who you are, and if she does, I do not believe she will ever be the same person again."

"It does not matter. You cannot change my mind, Anne. I suggest you stop wasting breath."

"Charon I am not wasting my breath, I am trying to save your _life_!"

"What?"

Anne and I look over. I see Dez, not ten feet away, her beer falls from her grip. She stares at me, at Anne, bewildered. How long has she been there? How much has she heard? My name…does she know?

"Dez, how long have you been standing there?"

I watch her slowly blink. Her eyes glaze over, the fire is to her back. It is as if she is possessed. Blood trickles from her nose, but she does not faint as she did before. I watch her carefully, I watch as she wipes the blood with the back of her hand.

"N-not long…"

Her trance is gone. She looks up at me.

"What…what were you two talking about?"

Anne purses her lips, she narrows her eyes, and I know.

"Will you tell him it is not in his best interest to fight? He is not listening to me, but he will listen to me."

We look to Dez. She has a blank expression on her face, a lost, sad expression, but blank.

"N-no…h-he's free. He can do what he wants…"

"Dez, please just tell him not to go. Tell him that you don't _need_ him to fight with you."

I watch Dez, her bottom lip shakes. It is slight, hardly noticeable, but I see it. It enrages me.

"Enough!"

I shout, glaring down at Anne. She backs away from me, as I advance on her.

"I am not above breaking you in half, Anne. Take your things, and go _back_ inside."

Anne nods, fear ever so present upon her face. She is horrified, mortified. I have no real intention of hurting her, I simply wish for her to leave. Dez must not know, and whatever she has heard is too much. Anne walks back towards the building, and I sigh, my back to Dez.

"W-walk with me?"

Her stutter tells me that she is worried. It tells me she is scared. I turn to Dez, in the moonlight, in the firelight. I want to tell her who I am, want to relive the night at the abandoned house and take her from this world. Yet I do not. I simply nod, and follow her lead out into the desert. She leads me away from the party, away from the music and the cheerful laughter. I follow, quiet, wondering. I am worried that she knows, worried that the nosebleed signifies her memory has returned.

"You…you're dying?"

I almost bump into her, she has stopped short and I was not paying attention. I stop, a few small feet behind her.

"Tell me, what did you hear?"

"I…I head Anne tell you she wanted to save your life…"

"That is all, then. She feels I am…too tired and fatigued to fight."

"That makes no sense and we both know you're lying."

Dez turns to me, her face contorts into anger.

"I am just trying to protect you."

"From what?"

"Things that have no importance or impact on you."

Without warning, without signal or sign, Dez presses her body close and tight into mine. She has done this, night after night, since we have arrived here. Each night, before I am about to fall asleep, Dez climbs from her bed and into mine. She presses her cold body into mine, and shivers until I wrap my arm around her. Then, she stops. She quiets, she falls asleep, while I lie awake.

"Stop protecting me…you've done it enough. Let me help. Let me know, what can I do?"

Even before she lost her memory, Dez has always wanted to help me. As if I am someone worth saving.

"There is nothing you can do, and that is the truth."

"Today…today is my birthday."

It is. I have forgotten, I allowed it to slip my mind.

"Happy birthday."

"Do you know what I want?"

"If I remember correctly, you wanted to stargaze."

"I don't want that anymore."

She clings to me, but my arms feel too heavy to lift. I cannot return her embrace. I am too frightened and worried of what she remembers, of what she heard. Between her words, and my words, and our actions, I try to figure out how this happened. I try to remember a time where none of this was present, but the only memory that is present, is the one at the abandoned house.

"What do you want, then?"

I promise her one day, I will make this alright. One day, I will fix this for her, and she will be happy, truly happy. My days are limited, but I have never believed death to be a stopper. Perhaps, for me, it will not be.

"I want you to tell me your name. I'm so confused…I have so many emotions. When…when they train me, it's like…it all comes back. I feel the gun, and memories of us fighting flash crystal clear in my head. I remember things, and I want to know why you're always there."

"Because I have travelled with you, Dez. You know this."

"But…you didn't tell me that…that we kissed."

I play stupid. It is my only defense.

"Do you remember this?"

She nods, her face pressing against my chest. I make no motion to comfort her, but I want to.

"That place…that place you mentioned. I remembered."

"What place?"

"Where…where I gave you that scar. I kissed you."

"Yes. You did."

"Then I…how could you forgive me? Is that when I lost my memory?"

Through my shirt, I feel the wetness of her tears. I still do not comfort her.

"I did not forgive you at first. I held hatred and resentment towards you. You came back for me, however, and saved me. No, it is not when you lost your memory."

"You didn't tell me we kissed…was Charon there? Does he know? Where is he?"

Yes, he was there. Yes, he knows. I am right here.

"Dez…please do not do this tonight. We have more pressing matters at hand."

I look down at her, and find her glaring up at me. Her fingers tug at my shirt, balling the fabric into her fists.

"Its _never_ a good time, is it?"

Her anger, I understand it. I just wish…she could remember me on her own. I do not want to be the one to tell her, especially after all the time we have spent together.

"Perhaps not, no."

Tonight, today, has been a difficult day. I have learned I am dying, and the person I love most knows it. I know she does, her actions speak volumes. She will not bring it up, she knows I will dismiss it as I have done everything else. I feel her pull away from me, her arms sliding from my waist, and I look down upon her. She walks away from me, and stares at the moon.

"Will you tell me your name, for my birthday?"

"No."

Her birthday is not a special day. No day is special. Along with time, the days have blended together into a large lump sum. As much as I want to tell her, as much as I know I must, I do not.

"You're…when you're gone I'll be fine. I don't need you."

"What do you mean 'when I am gone'?"

"Just sayin'. I don't need you. Don't know why you stick around."

I have played this game many times before. I am aware of what she is doing, and will not fall into it.

"Dez, would you like to return to the party?"

"Will you come with me?"

"No. I must speak with Anne."

She turns to face me, her hair wild in the moonlight.

"You're dating Anne now, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"You've spent all day with her…and you guys really seemed to be arguing earlier."

"No, Dez. Now, I must return to the clinic. Are you going to return to the party?"

"…Yeah."

"Shall I leave the room unlocked?"

She gives me an evil glare, and I notice a twinge of her old self flash in her eyes.

"Eh. Might bunk with another guy tonight."

I do not argue. I let her run off, run back to the party. I know she will not venture off with 'another guy'. She is playing childish games, and expects me to follow her in them. I do not, and I never have. Gathering my thoughts, I begin the walk back towards Fort Independence. Tonight has not been successful. It has not been good, only plagued with bad news and quiet arguments. I must not let that get to me. I must continue on, and weigh out my options.

Dez must know. I cannot bear to die, without her knowing who I truly am. There are three days, three shot, precious days, until the fight. I must cherish these days, and use them to my advantage as much as I can. Planning will take a large portion of each day. I will plan on telling Dez, plan on saying a goodbye, and plan on leaving her alone in the battlefield when I feel my body has taken too much. Yet planning, planning never ensures that I do. It is simply a series of guidelines, of rules, people set to remind themselves to do the tasks at hand. Planning, is never a promise of action.

I walk into Fort Bannister, with my mind working and cogs turning. There is so much I feel I must do, and so little time I seem to have. It is new to me, to feel the presence of time.

"Charon."

I look and see Henry standing in the doorway to his room. He motions for me to follow him, and I do. In this organization, he is my superior, despite training and abilities. I will show him respect.

"Close the door behind you."

I do as he says, and stand in attention. Old habits die hard.

"Relax soldier, no need for tense stances."

"Right."

I relax and lean against the wall behind me. I am close to the door. I feel the need to be close to the exits in this building. I am unsure as of why.

"Anne has informed me that you are quite ill, Charon."

"Yes, that seems to be the case."

"She has also informed me that it would me quite unwise to allow you to fight in the upcoming battle."

"She has informed me of that, too."

"Anne came to me and asked me to order you to wait it out. However, I would like to hear why it is you are so persistent to fight before I make my decision."

I sigh. I have nothing to prove to these people, I am not trying to gain status or respect with them. I am simply trying to protect Dez.

"Sir, will all do respect, your orders will have no hold on me. I am going to fight, regardless of what anyone says."

"Why is that, Charon?"

"Dez is not mentally stable to witness the sights she will see during that fight. She needs me there."

"How do you know this?"

Their ignorance is quite frustrating.

"Because I know her."

"She is quite skilled, almost better at her training, than most of my men out there. It seems she would suffice fine without you."

"I assure you, that will not happen."

"Have you thought about her reaction to your death? If she is as mentally vulnerable as you speak, then how do you expect her to survive without you?"

"She is strong. I am confident that the fight will bring her back into her hold mindset. She will mourn me, yes, but this is what needs to be done."

Henry sighs and crosses his arms. He is not wearing his Power Armor. It is a rare sight.

"Charon, I fear that no matter what I do, you are going to somehow find a will and a way to fight that day."

"You are right."

"It is your own life, you may do with it as you wish. However, I must ask you strongly consider the long-term effects it may have on Dez. Take everything into careful consideration, before jumping to a solution."

I nod, he is understanding.

"I will."

"Now, are you going to join everyone else in the party? Training starts again tomorrow, there isn't much time for fun."

"I do not train with them, as you know. I have no desire to join them."

Henry waves his hand at me, I am dismissed. I leave his office, his room, and continue on to the upper levels of the fort. How dare Anne try and prevent me from fighting. It is my own choice, it is my life. I am trying to save Dez, trying to protect her from things that she is not yet ready to see. Perhaps I am wrong in this choice, but as far as I can tell, it is the only thing I can do to show her I have always been, and always will be, with her. I climb the stairs, my body feels sick with each step. I have felt this way for days, I understand and know how to deal with it. A simple shake of my head, a push with my mind, and the side-effects leave. I have been trained to endure, and it is what I do best.

Anne greets me at the top of the stairwell, as if she had known of my coming.

"Change your mind?"

"No. I do not appreciate you running to Henry, nor did I appreciate what you pulled at the fire, either."

"I'm just trying to save you, and Dez."

"Dez has nothing to do with my sickness."

I push past Anne, I am trying to lie down now. My first intention upon returning was to speak with Anne, but now I do not wish to.

"Apparently she does if you're going to risk you life for her mental stability!"

"That does not concern you."

"Charon, look at these!"

She thrusts film photographs into my hands. I recognize them as brain scans, but I do not know how to read them. Anne stands beside me, a pencil in her hand.

"See this dark matter?"

She makes a circle around what I assume is Dez's brain. A large portion of it is black.

"Yes."

"That's where the brain stores memories, Charon. The black coloring shows its dead."

I hand the film back to her.

"She remembers, Anne. She has memories."

"And it's a miracle she does! But look at this! She isn't going to remember much more, she's _gone_, Charon."

I turn, angry towards her.

"She _remembers_."

I hiss. I do not care for numbers, for science or statistics. I care for what I have seen. I have seen that Dez remembers. She can recall memories, images, feelings and emotions. If she is capable of doing that, then I do not doubt her ability to remember more.

"Charon, you're being irrational. What she remembers now might be the _only_ things she remembers. She has taken far too much damage to her frontal lobe."

"Anne you are a doctor, are you not?"

"Yes, what?"

"Then you must know that the human body and the human mind is one of mysteries and wonders. Men who are told will never walk, have run marathons. People diagnosed sick and given six months to live, have seen three birthdays. The human mind causes hysterical pregnancies, and is even thought to have more power than we imagine."

"Yeah, I know that. Where are you going with this?"

"You must also know then, that the human body is capable of regeneration. We get cut, yet in a week that cut is hardly a scar. The human mind is a powerful tool, Anne. If one wills something enough for their own body, then it will happen. Dez wants to remember. I have no doubt she will."

"Charon, I understand what you're getting at but be _realistic_. The chances of that happening are slim to none, and you're going to risk your _life_ for it?"

"Dez is nothing short of a miracle. She has given you pure water, and disbanded most of the Enclave. She aided those who hated her, to bring you what you have now. She is a conduit of human anatomy, with ghoulified DNA. If that does not suffice for her abilities, I have more information."

I stare Anne down. She stares up at me, not moving, not cowering, just staring. She moves aside, allowing me to pass by her without physical contact. She does not understand. I do not expect a person of medicine to. It is a faith-based belief, something that cannot be studied or analyzed in a lab.

She follows me, much to my irritation. She follows me inside my room, her hand stopping the door from slamming shut. I ignore her, and walk over to my bed. Dez's bed lies across from mine, against the opposite wall. Her blankets are not strewn about like mine, she never sleeps in her own bed. As I stare at her belongings scattered in a small semi-circle, I wonder, how did it come to this? Glancing up, Anne is standing by the window. She looks out upon the people and their party, out upon the fire, at Dez.

"She's beautiful, Charon. In this whole messy, violent, deadly kind of way."

"What makes you say that?"

I ask her, feeling quite relieved she is no longer pestering me about my newfound illness. About abandoning Dez when I promised I would not leave her.

"The way she looks, I guess. She's like a small time-bomb."

"Yes."

"You care for her still, don't you?"

I stare at my hands. I feel naked without the gloves that match my armor. I do not feel like myself.

"Of course I do."

"Even though she's nothing like she used to be?"

"It does not matter. Regardless of her sustained injuries, she is still Dez to me."

"Well now, _that's_ devotion. I wish I could care about anything like you care about her."

I do not respond. I am not a psychiatrist. Do not come to me, expecting an open ear, and comforting words. I will not listen, I will not care. The people of this world do not deserve the comforts of speaking their sins, when they are trying to convince me to abandon the only thing that matters to me in this world.

"It seems Rococo has taken a liking to Dez."

I glance up at Anne. She smiles as she looks out the window. It is not a bad smile, but one that would suggest sweetness. Perhaps she could be sweet and kind, if I was not so blinded by my anger for her, I might see she is.

"I would suspect some of the men here to show interest in her."

I say, showing her half-heartedly I do not care. I would have gotten angry over this, in the past, but I know now Dez is too frightened to go home with men. Not that she would have in the past, but she is not as friendly towards them as she once was.

"I heard Protector McGraw was interested in her, but I didn't expect Rococo."

"They do not have the patience to deal with her, as I do."

Anne looks at me from across the room. She leans against the wall, folding her hands over her chest while still looking out upon the bonfire.

"You seem confident Dez won't leave you."

"She will not. I am all she has, she knows it, and I know it. She will not abandon me for a man she does not know."

"Not even for a night?"

I narrow my eyes at her, holding back the anger. Anne is touching down on waters too deep to swim in. I will assist in her drowning if she continues on.

"I am sure if the situation presented itself, she would come looking for me."

"You really believe that, huh?"

"Yes, because if she does not come here once everyone departs the fire, I will go looking for her. Pray for the man I find her with, I will not let them go unpunished."

Anne nods her head knowingly in my direction. I stare down at my hands, my elbows are resting on my thighs.

"I still feel you should stay here for the fight, Charon. You know she will come back safe and sound."

I close my fists, digging my short nails into my palms. I do not need Anne pestering me so much, there are other things on my mind. More important things.

"It has nothing to do with her safety. I told her I would not leave her. I cannot send her into battle with a bunch of strangers."

"We aren't strangers to her anymore."

"You do not understand. Your presence here angers me. Leave."

Anne is not as stupid as I had initially believed. She picks up on the tone in my voice, and quickly scampers off, closing the door behind her. I let out a relieved sigh, and light a cigarette. I have never felt my age. Always, I have felt as if I drank from the mythical Fountain of Youth. The entire ghoulification process has been nothing more than a side-effect. I have felt youthful, energetic, continually well-trained, despite the passage of time. Now, however, I feel old. I feel as if my bones are weighed down with lead, as if each breath I take is a struggle. I can sense the end, I could sense it, before Anne confirmed it.

It has always been a lingering dread, that one day my time here would end. However I did not expect it to come so fast, swift, and abrupt. Perhaps if I had this issue before Dez lost her memory, there would be a chance of survival. I would have told her I was sick, and she'd hold on to me in the night. I am sure she would have worked alongside the doctors, helping for a cure as quickly as she could. Dez has always wanted to cater to my wounds, despite how minimal. It seems that way still, her small incident in the tunnel proved it to me.

Yet I pulled away from her. I did not wish to reminisce whilst on the verge of attack. We had to move, and move quickly. The Brotherhood were less than a skip, hop, jump away. I had to protect her, keep her safe. Memories of a time now lost was not my main objective.

Standing, I walk over to the window Anne was looking out of. I inhale on my cigarette, exhaling smoke. Most of the troops have come inside, the night is young and training begins early. They must rest, while they can. It seems the only few troops outside are just the ones putting out the fire. Scanning the campsite, I do not see Dez. I notice her armor is gone, and I know she has come inside the fort. Time will tell, if she comes back here, or if she holds fast to her suggestion to be with another man. If that is a case, said man will not have a kind interaction with me.

"Stupid."

I hear Dez say as she opens the door to our room. Needless to say, I am relieved she did not travel with another man. I do not have the energy to fight tonight.

"What is stupid?"

I ask while I stab my cigarette out on the wall beside me. I watch Dez carefully, wondering. Perhaps that nosebleed she had earlier signified a return of memories? It is possible, but I will not get my hopes up.

"Everything."

She walks over to her bed, falling on it face-first. I raise an eyebrow, slightly confused.

"I do not understand."

A chuckle rises up inside of me, I have never felt the need to laugh before. Yet upon hearing Dez talk while her face is smothered in a pillow, I found the want to chuckle.

"I cannot hear you, Dez. Remove your face from the pillow."

She does as I ask, laying the side of her face on it instead.

"I said that everything is stupid because it is. Do you really think that this small section of people can take down the Brotherhood. I mean, it's the _Brotherhood_. They've got so much more than we do."

"Yes. I believe it will be successful. However our main objective is not to 'take down' the Brotherhood. We are infiltrating the base to obtain Elder Lyons and Rothchild with the least amount of casualties possible."

"Yeah. Take them down."

She rolls her eyes at me, and I watch her swing her legs over her bed. She beings to work on taking her boots off, and I feel I should do the same. It is late, and although I do not train with everyone else, I feel I should rest just the same. I walk over to my own bed, and begin to unlace my boots. I glance up at Dez, but all I can see are the filmy images Anne showed me. I can only see the damages done to her. She catches my gaze, and our eyes meet. My vision strays up to the scar above her right eye, and I feel my heart sink.

Perhaps Anne is right. Perhaps Dez will never remember who I am, remember what we once were. Despite the progress she has made, she is still at risk. She cannot remember full images, and I doubt now she will. She simply remembers the feelings, sensations, hardly a lucid and vivid image if you ask me.

"It makes me feel gross when you stare at my scars."

She says to me, and I continue to take the laces from my boots.

"Why? I have felt them many times before."

"Because it _does_. I hate them."

"I understand. You should not. They tell stories."

I glance up while my hands work. She has taken her boots off with success, and her feet dangle over the edge of the bed.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Like you have survived, you have many stories to tell yourself."

"Stories I don't remember."

"That is one you may tell."

She smirks at me. Offhandedly, I have brightened her mood. I did not notice I had done so, but I have. I hold back a smile, while I look at her.

"Do you care that I sleep over there?"

Her voice floats up and into my ears. Her eyes grow wide with wonder, concern.

"No."

"I like it."

"As do I."

I pull off my boots, and set them at the foot of my bed as I have so many years before. I still do not know if I am going to tell her of my illness. Perhaps it is best she does not know.

"Even though I'm not the same…when you look at me…do you remember it's me and not someone else?"

Her question has many meanings, many ways of interpretation, but I understand.

"I remember it is you. I never mistake you for someone else."

She smiles, I can see she is pleased I understood her question.

"How does it feel for you? I mean, to know I don't remember you but you've played such an important part in my life."

I am suspicious of her sudden interest in my outlook. She has never expressed this before.

"It has been difficult, but I am patient."

"You really think I'm going to remember, don't you?"

"I can hope."

I examine her face, watch her closely. She is different tonight, she is hiding something from me. I can see it in her eyes, in her small and slight facial twitches.

"What is on your mind?"

I confront, leaning against the wall my bed rests against. Dez shifts uncomfortably on her own bed, eyes darting everywhere.

"I…I remembered something outside…"

Of course she did. The nosebleed was a dead giveaway. A probably sign of sudden increase in neurological activity.

"What did you remember?"

I watch her eyes glaze over, her mind takes her places even I would be frightened to venture.

"You…you yelling at me. My back hurt, but you kept yelling. It made me so angry, but I listened, and I kept at it."

Her training.

"It's messy, because then it skips to…to a cave. I'm not sure where it is, or why I'm there, but…but you're there. And…and I see a dead…_thing_. You're skinning it, and my stomach is growling because I'm so hungry. I want to eat whatever you're skinning."

"Yes. That was Rockopolis. A temporary home you came across once you were forced to leave Megaton. I was yelling because you had asked me to train you, so you would have a better knowledge of how to fight. That 'dead thing' was a Molerat. A main source of food out here."

She blinks, and turns her head towards me slowly. I do not frighten easily, but when she gets this look upon her face, I feel quite frightened.

"There's something else, too."

"What?"

She touches her neck, her stomach, her thigh. Her hands graze over the welts, the scars. I shake, hoping she does not remember that.

"You…in a white room. It was so bright…and you had something in your hand…someone told…someone yelled until you pressed it against me. I screamed, I can hear myself screaming, I can feel the tears in my eyes. But I didn't want to cry, I wanted to be strong. I remember…I remember begging you, pleading with you to stop, but you didn't…it hurt so bad. I couldn't feel my own body, it hurt."  
I sigh slowly, my hands squeezing my own arms. I had hoped, of all the memories in her mind, that would be one of many she did not recall. She blinks, her hand resting over the welt on her neck, she looks at me. I see fresh tears in her eyes, from the memory.

"Why?"

She asks me, as if I hold a magical key that will answer all her questions. As if I can soothe all of her fears, and help her unlock her innermost thoughts and secrets. If I had a key of such power and magnitude, I would have used it by now. It pains me, to have to run through this once more, but this is a question I cannot ignore, even if I want to.

"I had no choice in the matter, Dez. The man you heard yelling, held my contract. I had to obey whatever he ordered of me."

"But…it hurt so much…"

"I understand. I still have not fully forgiven myself for those scars, either."

"You didn't stop."

"There is no need to remind me, I was there."

It is almost as if my words are empty to her. She stares off at the wall to my left, almost ignoring what I have to say.

"I was so hurt, emotionally. I remember…I remember I wondered why you would hurt me, why you couldn't just _ignore_ the contract."

"You are aware now, Dez. I do not feel comfortable discussing this situation."

"Why?"

"Because it is a time and event I am ashamed of and do not with to relive, if you do not mind."

She nods her head, still staring out into space.

"James is my, was my, father."

"…Yes."

"Catherine…was my mom?"

"Yes."

"And she died…she died before…while I was being born…I remember numbers."

"What numbers?"

This is a perfect example of Anne being proven wrong. I almost cannot contain my excitement, upon hearing of Dez's returned memories.

"I…I don't know the order…it's 612…or something. It means something, doesn't it?"

I will tell her. For her sake, for my own sake. The sooner she can remember, the sooner I can bid her farewell.

"Revelation 21:6. It is in the 'notes' section of your Pip-Boy."

Patiently, I wait. I sit in silence, watching her fingers configure and mess with her wrist computer. The light comes on, but she shakes her head, and dims it. I would offer help, but I would not know how to help. I have never used a Pip-Boy. I can help, however, by being quiet, patient, waiting silently for her to remember things. She ticks away, her fingers working meticulously, trying to find what she is looking for. I close my eyes, exhaustion from the stress of the day taking a toll on my body. It is uncommon, for me to feel this exhausted.

"I found it."

Dez's voice causes me to open my eyes. I blink, looking at her. The screen of her Pip-Boy illuminates her face, I see her eyes darting as she reads, her mouth forming silent words. She has a lost expression on her face, as if she recognizes the words, but does not remember why. I feel sorry for her, but there is nothing I can do.

"It's…it's pretty. It…reminds me of my mom…I think."

"Yes. It was your mother's favorite passage. Or so you would tell me."

Shaking her head, I watch as she clicks off the computer, and tosses her wrist down on the bed.

"I'm sick of this. I…I just want…I don't know."

I understand her frustration. She looks away from me, her eyes sad, her mouth in a slight pout.

"Come. Come here."

I say, my voice raspy, with twinges of sleepiness to the words. I rest my head against the wall behind me, closing my eyes. I hear Dez's bed creak, hear her soft feet pitter-patter towards me. She tries to be quiet, but I hear everything so loud. The bed, my bed, moves and shifts with the added weight. I feel the mattress beneath me compress, and I open my left arm for her. Her body, it fits with mine. She curls up into me, like a puppy would do it's siblings in the cold. I feel her knees brush against my thighs, her head pressing on the name of my arm. Her body is small, compared to my own. She is small, my hands are much larger than hers, it wouldn't take more that a flick of my own wrist to injure her. Because of her frail body, because of her mental state, I feel more protective over her. I feel it is my purpose.

"You should not worry so much. In due time, I am sure things will come to you."

"You say that, but I don't think you believe it."

"I do."

Gently, I rub her arm. I show her comfort, comfort I would not allow her to see just earlier tonight.

"Sometimes…sometimes I feel so angry. Sometimes I hear things, but other people can't hear it. It's like a voice. And…and at night I have bad dreams."

She is telling me about her mind, about the demons she has worked so hard to suppress.

"Yes?"

"Yeah…it's scary. And…and then you come. In all my nightmares, my bad dreams, you just seem to make it all better. I don't know how, you just appear and it's safe."

"I see."

The moon shines in from the outside. There is no light in our room, just the moon. Dez and I hide in the corner, hide in the shadows my bed provides. I feel as if I am protecting her from that light, as if the light is something to be feared. I would not doubt that, out here.

"I don't…I don't think I can sleep."

"I will stay up with you, if you wish."

"No, I can't ask you to do that…"

"You are not asking, I am offering."

I feel her sigh, her hot breath stretching and reaching through the fabric of my shirt. If she never remembers, and if I never tell her the truth, at least she will have moments like this to look upon when she is sad. She will not be without comforting moments, I will ensure that.

"It's still my birthday."

"Your birthday ended at midnight."

"But we haven't slept, so it's still yesterday. Will you give me my present?"

"What is it that you want?"

I recall her asking for my name, but I play stupid. I do not want to tell her, not now, not here. It will ensure a fight, I can feel it in my now old and brittle bones. There is not much fight left in me, I must avoid conflict. I must preserve what I can, for the upcoming events.

With my eyes closed, my head relaxed, my guard is down. I feel Dez shifting against me, moving as if she is uncomfortable. She places her hand on my opposite breast, pressing down, supporting her weight slightly. I open my eyes, and catch her as she puckers her lips. They are soft, warm, moist against my cheek. It sends sensations I have not felt in a long time, throughout my body. I feel my grip on her tighten for a moment, and then quickly I release her. The place where her lips touched, burns with a numbing intensity. I have missed her, miss her more than I wish to admit.

"I just wanted that."

I look at her, my heart racing like it had in the abandoned house. Once again, I am inexperienced, I am not knowledgeable of what to do with the situation presented in front of me. I let Dez control it.

"You wanted to kiss me? That does not seem like a gift for yourself."

She licks her lips as she nestles back into the crook of my arm.

"I just…wanted to see something."

"What is that?"

"To see…if it felt…familiar."

"Did it?"

She buries her head into me. Her arm tosses over my stomach, and she tightly grips my back.

"Kind of…it felt…good. Like…I don't know."

"As long as it is familiar, then that is good."

"I suppose."

"You cannot expect it all to come back in a rush, Dez. You must be patient."

"I _am_ being patient! You're not helping none, either. You know so much, and you won't tell me."

There is no good reason for that other than the excuse that I wish for her to remember on her own. I feel that is best. I feel if I relay anything to her, about who I am and what I know, she will challenge me. She will anger and I will have lost all hope. With my body rapidly deteriorating, I cannot take that chance. I must choose my words, my actions, carefully.

"Hush. You must rest."

"I can't sleep."

"Try. Do not overstress yourself."

She sighs, and I feel her nails through my shirt. She scratches my skin gently, like she is trying to comfort me.

"Anne called you…"

Her sentence trails off, of into a dazed wonder. I jerk open my eyes and look down at her. Does she know? Perhaps she does, and she is not angry. That would be a miracle.

"What did Anne call me?"

I press the issue, eager to hear. She moves her head, her eyes staring into mine. I know if I keep gaze, she will eventually look away.

"She…she called you Charon."

Her sentence, her voice, it oozes and drips with confusion, with sadness and anguish. My heart speeds up, but I quickly calm it. My body must not overexert itself before the fight.

"…She did."

I admit to her. It feels as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. As if I no longer have to worry.

"…I feel…lots of different things right now."

"Like?"

She looks at me, I cannot read her expression.

"I'm…I have to go to my bed now."

I do not stop her. I let her move away from me, let the feel of her cool skin leave my side. In the darkness, I watch her walk across the cold floor barefoot, and lift herself into her own bed. She tosses the covers off, and places herself under them. I watch her lay down, her back to me, face to the wall. I have not angered her, I am not sure what reaction this is. I am sure it is a lot to take in, she is probably remembering, thinking, wondering. Tomorrow I feel she will have many questions for me, accusations, she will most likely yell. For now, though, she is quiet. Now, she is aware of my identity.

Licking my lips, I am reminded of my sickness. My lips are dry, and I shake my head as I begin to move and position myself under my own covers. Now she knows, that is one half of the battle won. I must now…give her memories. I must end any impending arguments, without leading her on more. I must provide her with many instances she may look back on when I am not there, and smile. I have never planned my own death before. It is strange. It is odd. Yet a part of me feels welcome to it. I am over two-hundred years old. It is quite a long time to live, especially live a life like I have. It seems that maybe in death, I will find peace. The world I will move to will not be as filthy and ridden with scum as this one is now. Perhaps something calm with welcome me, a mercenary, a soldier, a weapon. Perhaps, possibly, maybe.


	22. Remember What You're Looking at is Me

The sun burns my eyes. It pierces through my eyelids, creating red blotches beneath them. I feel a tickle in my throat, it is small, but it grows. A harmless tickle, ventures and turns into a harsh, violent coughing fit. Curling over the edge of my bed, I cough into my hands, my eyes clenched closed. I suck in air when I can, and it seems my fit is coming to an end. Phlegm spews out of my mouth, into my hands. Disgusting.

Opening my eyes, I see the phlegm. It is coated with blood. Memories, incidents, events of last night and yesterday flood back into my mind. My illness, Dez discovering my identity, it floods into my brain. I wipe my hands on my pants, the blood will not show on leather. I am sicker than I had initially presumed. Laying back on my bed, I feel the soft pillow beneath my head. I am sick, I have three days, three nights, exactly, to finish what I need to do. I realize with each day, the weight this sickness brings on my shoulders gets heavier and heavier.

Turning my head, I glance over at Dez's bed. She is not in it. This is not unusual. The troops must rise at dawn, and begin training after a swift breakfast. Dez does not wake me with them, she allows me to sleep in. However, I wish that she had today. I do not know how she is feeling, I know nothing of how she is taking it in, discovering who I am. I swing my legs over the edge of my bed, and begin to lace up my boots.

Before I am able to get the laces into the small eyelets, there is a soft knock on my door.

"Come in."

I call, gruff, my voice shot from coughing. The door opens, creaking loudly. Anne walks in, bags hang under her eyes. Since she is also the doctor, she is allowed to skip training in order to provide the troops with medicine and effective methods to keep themselves in top condition. The sun is bright, it is early, I do not wish to hear her nagging.

"If this is more pestering about the fight, I do not wish to hear it."

I tell her, continuing to lace my boots as if she is not present.

"No, it's about something else."

"What?"

Anne closes the door behind her. I hear her begin to pace about, the rhythm of her steps irritates me. I have too much to worry about, too much to handle.

"It's about Dez."

Suddenly, my issues have no meaning. I drop my laces and look up at her, resting my arms on my thighs.

"What is it? Is she okay?"

Anne stops pacing, to my relief, and stares at me.

"It's…it's something different. I mean, she woke this morning, and she wasn't…she was _different_."

"Different? What is going on? _Is she okay_?"

"Calm down, Charon. She's fine, that's just the thing. She didn't eat breakfast, she went straight out into the yard with Henry and began training. The way she exerted herself, the way she has been moving and training all morning, I cannot believe it. More importantly, she asked about you by name."

Her memories, they are coming back to her. I know this. She is trying to find them, trying to remember by training. Last night she had told me when she trains, she can remember more clearly. I do not know how I feel about this. Anne seems worried, and I am unsure if I should be as well.

"Yes. I told her last night."

"Charon, she asked for me to come here and deliver a message."

"What is it?"

"She told me she wants you outside when you wake up. She wants you close by. She says she needs to speak with you. I don't understand any of this, how can she…_remember_?"

I want to smirk, but I hold back. I allow Anne to fret and worry, when there is hardly a thing to worry about. I feel the emotion of 'joy' rise up inside of me. Dez, my Dez, is closer to me than ever. She is returning, slowly, steadily, but returning.

"Is she angry?"

I ask Anne, carefully returning to my boots. I hear her sigh, she seems frustrated.

"I don't know. There's a lot of stuff I don't know anymore. By all means, Dez shouldn't even be _alive_, yet here she is, openly remembering and walking and training!"

"She is full of surprises."

I stand, finished with my boots. Anne sizes me up, her gaze linger for too long. It makes me nervous. Not uncomfortable, but nervous.

"I guess I never realized how tall you are."

"You have taken my weight and height."

"Yeah but…never really got a look at you I guess."

"Hm."

I grumble, and move past her. I do not wish to be near her any longer. Dez wishes to see me, she called for me by name. I feel like I am a simple peasant, being called to the queen. I feel elated, my sickness is the furthest thing from my mind. I cannot be hasty, however. I do not yet know how Dez is handling this news, how she is going to react when she sees me. I am Charon, she knows this now. The man who she talks so highly about, the man who she misses so greatly, is me. I have returned to her fully. I feel excitement, I have never felt it, coupled with such joy.

I make my way outside to the training grounds. Amongst the armor-clad troops, Dez is surprisingly easy to spot. She is shorter than them, and is still fumbling with her armor. She wields a Chinese Assault Rifle, hitting targets with expert shooting, moving and ducking behind set-up barricades as if she remembers the harsh training I put her through. I stand against the building, my arms folded, smoking a cigarette. I do not wish to interrupt them. Watching them brings back memories of my own training, my own torture.

Carefully, I watch them face off in hand-to-hand combat. I am proud of Dez, as she recalls and exerts techniques I have shown her in the past. She knocks her opponent's helmet off, and brings him down in less then ten minutes. The troops who had stopped to watch cheer, holler and hoot. I hold back from joining in their primitive means of acceptance.

Carefully, she removes her helmet. Her orange, red and brown hair topples down around her neck. She sees me, but does not smile. I glance over at Henry, who is and has been, monitoring their training for the past five days. On the eighth day, we leave. I have three days. Dez walks over to Henry, and they exchange words. He nods his head, and they shake hands. I toss my cigarette into the dirt, and straighten my back. Dez turns to me, she turns and walks towards me. My heart is beating faster than it ever has in the past. I want to run over and hug her, kiss her body, her lips, taste her and feel every inch of her. Yet I do not. I hold back, until she comes up to me.

"Charon."

She says, staring up at me in the hot morning sun. It is a matter-of-fact statement, her eyes dart around, closely looking at me. I know she is examining my face, my features. Her eye glaze over for a quick instant, and I know she remembers me. She has to. Narrowing her eyes, she drops her helmet to the ground. Piece by piece, she removes the Power Armor, dropping it into the dirt. I do not speak, I am waiting for her to speak first.

When all the armor is gone from her body, she stares up at me in her Raider armor. It is the same armor I first met her in. She has the same glint in her eye as she did on that fateful day.

"We have a lot of talking to do."

Dez sounds uncharacteristically mature. I am wondering now, what changes she has undergone since the previous night.

"Yes. We do."

"Henry is letting me go for the day. Where can we talk?"

I think. Anne, hopefully, will not disturb us if we go into our shared room. I will lock the door, to ensure this.

"Our room, perhaps?"

"Yeah. Okay."

She leads the way, but stays close to me. She has never walked this close to me. If I twitch one of my fingers, I will graze her bare skin. Her pace is slow, she does not look back at me. It takes all the strength I have, not to rejoice and hold her in my arms as I once did so many months ago. She leads me through the chain-ling fence, past the truck they are repairing to bring us to the Citadel, and into the front entrance of Fort Independence. She does not speak, but walks quietly, slowly, as if each step may be her last.

We come to our room, and I lock the door behind me. It makes a heavy 'click' sound, and Dez turns to me as she walks towards the dirtied window.

"Why did you lock it?"

"Anne has been pestering me. I do not wish to have any disturbances."

"Oh."

Dez says, biting her lip, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall as she looks out the window. I advance towards her, careful, unsure of the boundaries.

"Charon, you lied to me."

She says my name, and I nearly lose myself. However I am stronger than that. I regain composure, and keep my mind focused.

"I know."

"No, really. You did lie. I can forgive you, I have forgiven you, for lying about not knowing me. But lying about who you are? You…you know how much I've missed you…"

"I did not think it would be purposeful or beneficial to you if you knew who I was instantly. I preferred for you to remember me on your own terms. I was…frightened that you may think I was lying."

She smirks, and lets out a knowing chuckle.

"I would have. I wouldn't have stuck with you, either."

"I had no intention of hurting you."

She looks into my eyes. Those doleful eyes that have seen too much, cried too many tears, stare at me like never before.

"You did, though. When I woke up…Charon how do you expect me to react to this? It's you, it's been you all along…and…I never knew."  
"You did know, Dez. You just did not wish to acknowledge or admit it."

"I mean, I had _some_ idea, I guess. I just felt…so comfortable with you. I knew something had to have happened. But…it never crossed my mind…that you were him."

"I know."

It feels like I am standing in front of a firing squad.

"You…you don't know, though. The man on my Pip-Boy…his name is Charon, too. What if you're lying?"

"That was myself before the ghoulification process, before the Great War. You uploaded those pictures the day you lost your memory, from a terminal whilst helping me find my own past."

"_Now_ you tell me."

"I would have told you sooner, but I felt it was too much."

She hangs her head, shaking it slowly from side to side. In the sunlight, I see my necklace glisten around her neck. It brings me hope. Had she given up on me, she would have taken it off this morning.

"I've been so _lost_, Charon…so alone and scared. I…I don't know…what to think…"

"Dez, do you believe me?"

It concerns me that she might not. I will prove it to her, I am trying.

"I…don't know."

"Do you recall the memory of when you were in the abandoned house? You shared it with me the first day we ventured together."

"Yeah, why?"

"We…had intercourse that night, Dez. You laid with me until the sun rose, and I gave you that very necklace that same night. It was the day before you lost your memory, the last day I ever saw you."

Tears well in her eyes as she remembers. She hides them, pushes them back. I feel like a beaten dog. My body aches, my bones feel brittle, my emotions are slowly sinking.

"Why'd you leave me then, huh? All alone in the Citadel? Why'd you let them do those things?"

I feel hurt. I feel emotionally hurt. The way she asks, it brings unbelievable sadness inside of me. I sigh, and stare into her dejected eyes.

"I had no other choice. Incidents happened, turrets were activated in the room we were in, a stray bullet is what pierced you, caused you to lose your memory. Dez, believe when I say that if I had any other choice I would have taken it. They tore you from my arms, hardly breathing, inches from death. They rushed you away from me, and that was the last I saw of you. My armor was stained with your blood, you face hidden behind it, too."

"Why didn't you chase me?"

"They took me into custody, Dez. They kept me there, tortured me, tried to get me to speak and share what I knew of you. I told them nothing. Finally, Elder Lyons came to me. He told me that you would suffer from severe memory loss, and would spare my life if I left. Had I refused this offer, I would have been killed on the spot. I took his negotiation, and swore to keep away from you, so that you may be safe. I did not intent any harm. I did not know this is what they had in mind."

She hung on my words, listened to them as if her life depended on it. I can tell by her facial expressions, she does not remember helping me find my past, nor the events after we woke from our once shared night. I watch her rub the scar above her right eye, and I watch as tears drip out of her eyes.

"You've…you've always kept me safe…"

"I have, Dez."

"Even…even when…I was near dead."

"It is a miracle you are alive."

She still does not trust me. I can see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. I reach out towards her, and she jumps as my hand touches her arm.

"Dez, I'm trying."

"It's just so much…I…need time."

I do not have time. I do not have any of the days or the amount of time I once had. I am sick. I am dying. She pulls from my grip and walks to the door.

"Dez, please."

I hear her turn the lock, but she does not open the door.

"Give me time, just a little, not long. I just need to figure it out. Figure out what to do."

"I know I cannot rush these things, but time is short. We are leaving here shortly."

"No…no I know. It won't take that long. But…just…leave me alone until I come back. I…have a lot to think about."

I nod in agreement. I want to hold her, touch her, kiss her, embrace her and never let her go. Rather than do that, I let her walk out the door. I watch her leave, closing the door quietly behind her. I understand her feelings, at animosity towards me. This is not something to take lightly, but I can hope, only hope, that she will soon return to me, and we can pick up where we left off. I know it will not be the same, and I am fine with that. I just need to make amends for everything, I need to…occupy my time for now.


	23. Would You Love A Monsterman?

I can't believe it. I mean…it's a lot to take it. It's just so much, my mind can't handle this kind of stress. I guess he's right, though. Somewhere deep down inside, I knew it was him. I just didn't realize it. I knew it was him the entire time, that's why I felt so comfortable, so laid back with him. Still, it doesn't change the fact he lied. I just needed to get away. I needed to clear my head, I have things to think about. I have a lot to register, to just…focus on.

I came to the roof, because I figured it was the last place anyone would look for me. The concrete is warm from the sun, and I laid down on it, staring up at the sky. I guess I already knew this was going to happen. Last night, Charon and Anne were arguing. Wow. It sounds so strange, calling him by name. I guess I'll have to get use to it. Anyways, I heard them, near the bonfire. She said his name, and at first I didn't believe it. I mean, I figured I was hearing things, that I got hit in the head a few too many times at training earlier that day. But, no. I think half of me, wanted me to mistake it. I wanted to think Charon was still out there, looking for me, or something. But he's not. He's been with me this entire time, this whole time, and just pretending he wasn't. That's bullshit, if you ask me.

I felt so _angry_. I was so angry at him last night, when I found it all out. I don't think I slept at all, I just laid there, quietly, thinking. I wanted to go over there and punch him, as hard as I could, over and over again. I wanted to…to hurt him, I was so angry. But I didn't. I laid in my bed, quiet, angry, until the sun came up. Then I went straight to training. I let it all out, in training. I've never felt such a need to shoot, to hit people, I needed to vent. I took it out on the targets, on my partner in the ring. It cleared my head some, made the anger go away. I was finally ready to talk to him after a couple of rounds in the ring with McGraw. Deep down inside, I think I already knew who he was.

It's just, I was so _comfortable_ with him. Each time he touched me, held me, it felt _right_. When I couldn't sleep my first night here, he let me crawl into bed with him. He didn't say anything, didn't do anything, just slid his arm around me and let me curl up next to him. I felt scared, my first night here, that they were going to hurt me like the Brotherhood. He made that fear go away. By just being there, by just letting me lay there with him. Even in my dreams, he made it all go away. Saved me from the demons in my head.

I guess his reasoning is right. If he had told me sooner, I wouldn't have believed him, I would have called him a liar. But now…now the evidence is just too much to deny. He told me, how I lost my memory. I don't remember it, I can't, but I believe him. He told me why he left me, and during our time together, spoke about how much he missed his girlfriend, me. He loves me, I can say that with confidence, but he lied to me. I mean, night after night, he'd listen to how much I missed Charon. How much I wanted him back, and how desperately I needed him. He didn't tell me he was in front of me the whole time. I wouldn't have believed him, though.

It hurts just the same, though. Knowing he's here now…I'm someone else, but he's still here. He's always been here. I can't help but still question who I am, question all I did in the past, and wonder why everything turned out this way. Everyone I know, they go away. They seem to leave or move on, that's how it is with Gob. When he told me his story, I knew that I couldn't be his best friend anymore. I couldn't go to him for my problems, like he said I once did, because he's moved on. He has a family now, and all my family is dead. The only one who's still here, is Charon. It doesn't change how I feel towards him, though. I'm angry, that he lied.

With all of this I know now, it's all a mess. I'm not sure if I should punch him, or kiss him. I don't think they'll be any kissing of any sort anytime soon, though. I kissed his cheek last night. His rotten, exposed, muscular cheek. It felt warm against my cool lips, it felt familiar, and I liked it. Well, now I know why. I know now, and don't know what to do. Maybe in a few days, maybe after the fight at the Citadel, I'll be able to hold his hand, kiss him. I don't want to rush into anything, this is all so new. I still need to feel around, sort out my mind, get it out of my head somehow. I can't stay mad at him, though. He…he's stuck with me through all of this, and more. I can see his point of view.

As I stare up at the sky, I hear the door to the roof open. Picking my head up, I expect to see Charon, and I half-hope it is. But it's not. It's Anne. I don' t like her, and I don't know why.

"Dez?"

She walks over to me. She's wearing that stupid lab coat.

"Yeah what?"

I get up from the ground and dust myself off a bit.

"I have to speak with you. It is important."

"About what?"

"It's…about Charon. Listen he'd get mad if he found out I was even considering telling you. Is he around?"

I looked around. When people like her are around me, I feel different. I feel confident, and sarcastic. I like it, so I don't try to hide it.

"Nope. Pretty vacant up here, I mean, aside from us."

"Would you please come into my office?"

"Nope. We can talk here."

Her office gives me the creeps. She has all these strange things growing in test tubes, and floating in jars. I don't like it.

"Right, I'm sure he won't come barging in here, anyways. But first, how are you holding up? With finding out and all this must be quite the shock."

"I think I've become use to people hiding things from me. Not much of a shock. Would have reacted the same if you had told me instead of him. What you want, anyways?"

Anne thinks I'm some sort of miracle. She keeps telling me how lucky I am to even be walking, let alone alive and breathing and remembering. It gets old, hearing it so much. And frankly, I don't care. I don't tell her that at this point, I wished the bullet had killed me. I just keep it to myself.

"It's about Charon."

I light a cigarette, blowing smoke in her face.

"Yeah, you told me that. What about him?"

"Well…I need you to tell him you don't need him for the fight at the Citadel. He has to stay here."

I cocked an eyebrow. Just because I don't remember it all, just because him being Charon is all new to me, does not me I'm going to let some hussy walk in and try to take him away. He's the only thing I have out here, I can't lose him. And besides, I do need him. I won't admit it to anyone, but I'm going to need him that day. I've hardly fought against Raiders, let alone this. I can't do it alone, I won't be brave enough. He has to go.

"If he doesn't want to go, he doesn't have to. I don't pick and choose what he does."

"I understand that but he'll listen to you."

"Why do you need him here, anyways?"

Anne looked away, she seemed nervous about something.

"Dez, please."

"Please what?"

"Ask him to stay."

"I'll do my best, I guess."

Anne didn't say anything else, she left after that. I stayed outside, still thinking things over, still letting it sink in. It's unsettling, how much I don't know, and how much…well…people keep from me. I'm beginning to feel like I can't trust anybody, not even Charon. Hell, especially Charon. In all of this, he's the biggest liar of them all, everyone else is just in cahoots with them. Anne won't even tell me why she wants him to stay here so damn bad. I'm beginning to feel quite…well…I'm not sure but it's not good. Kind of manipulated, really.

I mean, if the damn Outcasts didn't tell me anything, how do I know I can trust people? How do I know what's true, and what isn't? I have to trust my gut instinct, I guess. I have to take faith in the shit I hear, and hope to god my own head doesn't lie to me. Although, I wouldn't doubt if it did. Sighing, I looked back up at the sun. It's warm, I like the warm. It seems to be the only real thing I can trust. After all, it's not like the sun isn't going to rise one day. It'll always rise, there's always a new day, always something to explore. I'm not sure if that's a good thing yet.

"Hey Dez."

I turn around and see J.T. He's nice to me when we train, we make small talk in between kicking one another's asses. A small friendly competition is always between us.

"Oh, hey."

He walks over to me. He doesn't fumble in his Power Armor like I do. I hate that armor. Figure it's better than getting shot once and going down, though.

"You alright? I heard what happened and all…"

J.T. rubs the back of his neck all awkward and it makes me smile. The Outcasts have been nice to me, lies aside. And I guess they didn't really lie to me. I never asked, and they never told. Flicking out my cigarette, I light up a new one and run my fingers through my hair.

"I'm…holding up I guess. I mean, how else am I supposed to react to it?"

"Yeah, I know. Some of us probably should have told you or something, but we can't really disobey orders. Not good, especially with Henry and all."

"No, I understand. Just wish I knew sooner."

"Would you have believed it, though?"

I smile at J.T., shaking my head.

"No, probably not. Not even sure I believe it now."

"Well, its true. We'd tell you if it wasn't. Hell you think we want some girl runnin' around with a ghoul? Especially a girl like you."

"No, I guess not. You're right."

Yeah, I guess someone would have told me that much. Ghouls and humans aren't really wanted in the world together. I mean, fornicating together. But I don't think they'll be any fornication going on between Charon and I for a while. I need to adjust to this, see if it's all still there.

"You know, Dez, I think you should focus more on the task at hand."

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"The Citadel."

Aw, right.

"Oh, yeah, forgot about that. What's our objective again?"

J.T. smirked at me, and stood beside me, a bit close.

"Capture Rothchild and Lyons with the least amount of casualties possible. And, of course, protect Dez."

"Why protect me? I'm a better soldier than you guys."

We laughed, and I punched him lightly in the arm. His armor hurt my hand, but I didn't say anything.

"Because Dez, there's a lot more to the Brotherhood of Steel than anyone's letting on. Didn't want to scare you."

"After all this shit, I don't think anything can scare me."

It's true, you know.

"Well, don't tell Henry I told you, its kind of not supposed to be mentioned. The reason Lyons wants you so bad is because there's this plan. He thinks you have this FEV virus and he needs it. Wants it, really. The Brotherhood want to distribute it to the people out here who disagree with them. They want to blame it on you. You're the only person they _can_ blame it on, because the people would believe it."

I kind of figured it was something, but never really that. What the hell is a FEV anyways?

"I don't even know what an FEV _is_. Well, there's a lot I don't know. But still."

J.T. nodded, smiling.

"Don't worry about it, though. We know where the virus is, we know who has it, and after this mission we plan on destroying it."

"Why not destroy it now?"

"We aren't equipped with the technology to do so. The Citadel is, though. Anne's going to come in once we finish, and get rid of it."

I guess that's good. I mean, at this point nothing anyone says can really bother me. It's like I'm immune to it, or something. I've just heard so much shit, and put up with so much, that I've turned myself off to it.

"Want to go have a beer?"

I heard J.T. ask, and I shrugged.

"Don't you have training?"

"Eh, Henry won't miss me right away. Come on, we can get some Nuka-Cola and Whiskey I the mess hall."

"I'm not big on drinking, J.T."

"Well then how about some Nuka-Colas then?"

"Okay."

J.T. smiled at me, and put his arm around my shoulders. We walked inside Fort Independence together, down the stairs, and into the empty mess hall. He didn't take his arm off of me the whole time. I felt a bit special, and a bit uncomfortable, too. I felt…I mean even though I'm very upset with Charon…he's still Charon. Even though he's not what I expected, I can't just erase how he made me feel. I can't erase all he's done, all the time he's invested and patience he had. This kind of feels like I'm smacking him in the face. Sure, he deserves a good smack in the face, but in a literal term, not figurative.

"Alright, two Nuka-Colas coming right up!"

J.T. walked over to the Nuka-Cola machine and hit it twice. Two bottles clanked out, and he handed me one. We cracked them open, smiling and toasted.

"To winning at the Citadel."

He said, and I nodded in agreement. The cool, slightly irradiated soda ticked my throat as it went down. I caught J.T. staring at the muscle on my wrist.

"Hey I've been meaning to ask you, are you undergoing ghoulification?"

I shook my head.

"No uh…I had Trog. I'm not sure what it is, but I caught it in somewhere called The Pitt. It uh, got bad before it got better."

I didn't feel like telling him my wrist was mostly my own doing. From my palm and all around my wrist, and up about four inches, is muscle. It looks like a bracelet, or some sort of accessory at first, so I guess not many people notice it. J.T. did though.

"Why don't you ask Anne if she can fix it?"

I felt the radiation from the Nuka-Cola warming my insides, and it made me tingle.

"I kind of like it…almost like a trademark. So then if anyone finds me dead out there they know who I am. Wait…that came out so morbid."

We laughed J.T. finished off his soda. He tossed the bottle into the trash and smiled at me.

"Well I better get back. Don't want Henry bitchin' and hollerin' at me anymore."

He kissed my cheek, and I felt myself get angry.

"See you round, Dez."

I nodded, and watched him leave. You know that pisses me off. They know how I'm feeling, they know how confused I am, yet they want to fuck with me. At least, that's what I call it. It's not J.T. being nice, it's him being a jerk. I don't like that about guys. I don't think I've ever felt so uncomfortable with a guy before. J.T. makes me feel uncomfortable. I'm going to avoid him now.

Sighing, I finished off my own stupid Nuka-Cola and tossed it into the garbage. I don't feel well, mentally. I don't feel well emotionally. I'm beginning to think this is all some big, giant joke. Like maybe I should run away from here, forget the Brotherhood, forget the Outcasts, forget Charon and try to make a new life. I'm sure I can hit my head against something, make myself forget everything. Maybe then, I wouldn't try to remember, and I wouldn't be plagued with all this nonsense and inane bullshit.

Leaving the mess hall, I saw Henry walking into the fort. I waved sadly at him, but he ignored me. I guess he's got business to do, fraternizing with us lower-rank people must be way too much stress for him right now. It doesn't matter anyways, I didn't want to talk to him, either. He lied to me, too. Well not really, but still. I don't feel like I have anyone in this stupid building I can trust. Walking up the stairs, I started to hear voices arguing. Anne and Charon, I guessed. I want to hear what they have to say, so I'm going to do a bit of eavesdropping. After all, I deserve to know what's what around here.

"Charon, please just _listen_ to me!"

"You have done enough damage, Anne. I suggest you leave me alone, from this point on."

"I don't know any other doctor who would care this much about their patient…"

"Possibly the only one who would break the doctor-patient confidentiality rule."

"That was a mistake and you know it. Plus, this isn't even about Dez, Charon. This is _you_. This is your _life_."

"I have put myself in more dangerous positions before."

"But you were never in danger of dying."

"I have been in danger of dying since the day I was born."

"Charon…"

"I do not wish to speak with you."

I ducked against the wall, Charon's shadow overcastting me as he walked by. He didn't see me, though, and that's good. I wonder what's so important, what's so damn concerning to the both of them. Anne probably doesn't want him to go because he'll fight stuff, and she doesn't want him to die. I don't know why, but hell that's the best I can do. Maybe I should go talk to him though, try to make things right, or at least civil between us. I'm sure going to the Citadel with the two of us on edge isn't the best solution. He did save my life, after all.


	24. Easy Target

I gave it a few hours before I go back to my room. I wandered around the property, looked at the armory, checked out some terminals. All to help make my head feel just a little bit better. It didn't help, though. My head still hurt. So I gave up. I gave up and came here, back to my room, where I know Charon is waiting. Problem is, I can't find the courage to open the stupid door.

What do I say to him? How can I say anything? Do I talk to him? Do I kiss him? I don't know. I don't know if there's any good solution to this problem. I shouldn't expect it to be easy, nothing else ever is. Putting my hand on the knob, I turn it, and hear it click. I push the door open, and take in a deep breath.

"Dez?"

Charon. It's him, I can hear it in his voice, hear when he calls my name. There's a level of concern there that people don't have for 'just friends'.

"Y-yeah, it's me…"

I walk in the room and close the door behind me. The orange glow of the setting sun makes the room feel comfortable. Warm. It doesn't make me any less nervous, though. I look at Charon, he's sitting on his bed and he stands up. I bite my lip. There's an awkward silence, I don't like it.

"I have been thinking, Dez."

"Yeah? About what?"

"I was wrong for lying to you, and I regret now that I have. Perhaps is I had told you the truth sooner, you would not hold animosity towards me."

The tone in his voice is indescribable. It has so much emotion, I can't really explain it. It makes something come alive in me, something sad but something touching.

"I…don't have any animosity towards you…Charon. It's just…new."

Calling him by name is new. Everything is new.

"I feel there is something I must say that I have not had the courage to express to you before, in the past."

"What's that?"

"Dez…I understand due to the circumstances, that I may no longer be the right one for you. I have come to accept that. I understand that you may no longer feel for me, what you have felt before in the past. It may not be the right time to express this, but I can no longer deny it or hide it. Despite how you may have changed, you are till Dez to me. I will continue to protect you as long as you are willing. I understand, however, if you would rather not continue relations to me. I just wish for you to be aware that I care for you more than I ever had anyone in my life, and I have lived a long time. I have not cared for anyone at all, nor have I cared so strongly. I just felt that you should know this, before you make a decision on what it is you wish to do."

I tuck my hair behind my ear, and look at him. This time, I _really_ look at him. He seems lost, more lost than I've been since waking up. There's something in his eyes that I've never seen before. I don't even think I've seen it in the past I can't remember. He wants to make amends. He's sorry. He wants us to be civil, and he is going to accept if I don't want him anymore. After all this, after all he's done for me now, and before, he's still willing to make me his main priority.

"I…don't know what to say."

Truthfully, I don't. Do I tell him I don't want anyone else? That the hours I spent thinking, I've realized that yes, I do still care, but it's just hard? I'm scared. I'm alone and I'm terrified. He's the only one whose been with me, the only one to care about me now and before. I don't know what to do, but I need a friend right now.

"Tell me what it is you wish to do."

I sigh, and rub the back of my neck.

"I…I'm sick of this. I'm sick of not knowing, of not remembering, of everyone hiding things from me. I don't want to cry anymore, Charon. I don't want to be alone, and I don't…I don't want anyone else. I've thought a lot today, about everything. I can't…I don't, have any ill-feelings towards you. You saved my life."

"I suppose."

"I would have died if it wasn't for you."

"Possibly."

I bite my lip and sigh. I still don't know what to say, I don't know what to do. I feel tears coming up in my eyes, but I don't want them to. I hate them. I hate them more than anything.

"Please, do not cry."

He walks towards me and cups my face in his hands. I sniff my nose and look up at him. He's a ghoul. He has no defining facial features, they're all rotted away. But…but he's cared about me. He's saved my life, he's sacrificed everything, for my own sake. In my eyes, that makes him more of a man than any human.

"I don't want to cry."

I blubber, and let my arms fall to my sides.

"All is well, Dez. You are safe."

He wraps his arms around my shoulders, and pulls me into him. His black shirt is soft against my cheek, his arms are strong around my body. I can hear his heart beating under his shirt, under his skin. It's like mine. I feel his hands grip at my shoulders, his jaw on the side of my head.

"Charon…"

I say, the name familiar, the feelings that it holds coming out and saying more than I could. I sniff my nose, pressing my cheek, my face, into his shirt more. He doesn't say anything to me, he just holds me, tightly. I feel like if he let go, I'd fall through the floor. Like he's single-handedly keeping all the bad things from getting to me. Just like he does in my dreams.

"Do you wish for me to remain in your company, Dez?"

I thought that was already obvious. I smirk, because he's so damn proper, because he's so damn worried.

"Yeah…I do. If you want to."

Charon pulls away from me a bit. He runs his fingers through the ends of my hair, and looks at me with soft eyes.

"I will admit my mistakes, if you would tell them to me."

"You didn't make any mistakes. I mean…you did, but…it was right. What you did. If that makes sense."

"It does. I have spent enough time with you to understand your sense of logic."

Charon makes me smile a bit. Even though I'm crying, he makes me smile. I can't help it, I want to smile. I've never really realize just how much he's sacrificed for me. I probably won't ever remember it all to the full extent, either, but I know.

"That's not good."

I say, with slight humor. Charon sighs, but it's a relieved kind of sigh.

"I suppose not, but it is useful."

"What do…what do you think of me now, though? I must be…different than what I was before."

"You are, but it does not matter to me. You are still Dez. Perhaps that is shallow to say, but it is how I see it."

"No, no it's not shallow."

Charon. His name is Charon. My name is Dezbe. In my head, I name us, Charon and Dezbe, and somehow it fits. I never thought my name sounded that great, but together with his, it works. Not the sound or how it flows off the tongue, but how you think two names should match up. Charon is a ghoul, he shouldn't match up with a human, but here he is, doing it. I don't mind it that much, really. He's devoted to me, and he carries a really big gun. I'd say that's the biggest threat to the Citadel.

He leans towards me, and hesitates a bit. I hesitate too, because I'm not sure what to really expect. But when I look up at him, I sense of 'it's okay' washes over me. I stand on my tip-toes, and he meets me halfway. He presses his lips on mine, gently at first. When he feels me press back, it instantly becomes more passionate. I feel it, too. My heart beats like I just ran a mile, my endorphins kick in, and I can't stop crying. This is the feeling, the same overpowering feeling, that I felt in the abandoned house. It takes over my body, and if I wasn't wrapped up in his arms, I probably would have fallen to the ground. If there was any doubt that he wasn't Charon, it isn't there now.

Kissing him, feeling his lips, feeling his tongue and his tongue against mine, no one could make me feel this way. Even if they wanted to, it would have to take someone very, very special to. I wrap my arms around him, helping me balance on my tip-toes. I've missed him so much. More than I realized. More than I admitted. I feel his breath from his nose on my face, and it just makes me want to kiss him more. Right now, there's nothing else in the world. It's just me and him, kissing, in this room, remembering everything that made us so insane, so crazy, and so goddamned passionate about one another.

I remember when we first met, a few days after really. He was the first person to care about me. The first one in my life, to give me the time of day. He drove me mad with his emotionless demeanor, insane and it enraged me. But that's what made me want him so badly. I suppose, I did the same for him, too. My antics, I can only imagine how I was, must have drove him just as mad. But it made him want me just as bad, too.

I guess it's stupid of me, to be so forgiving, but I can't stay angry at him. I can't look at him, and imagine being in an argument longer than a couple of hours. Maybe it's an old feeling, one I used to have before, but it's still there. I don't want it to go away, either.

He pulls apart from me. As much as I don't want him to go, I let him. He looks into my eyes, and I let my feet fall to the floor, giving my toes a rest. I feel him brush some loose hair out of my face, I don't want to ever be alone out here.

"Perhaps we should go downstairs, and meet the troops for dinner."

I smile, and hold back a laugh.

"How can you think of food right now?"

"Because I do not want an intrusion later, if we miss dinner. Someone will come looking for us, if we do not show our faces."

He's right, but it still makes me smile.

"I don't want to leave. I want to stay right here."

"As do I, but I also do not want Anne bothering me."

He kisses my forehead and wraps me back in his arms, with his chin resting on top of my hair.

"Why is she so worried about you?"

"It is a long story, Dez. I do not wish to tell it right now."

"She likes you, doesn't she?"

"No. In fact I feel I am quite the annoyance to her."

I look at him, analyzing his face. Even in intimate moments, his face is still set. It is expressionless, saying only 'don't fuck with me'. I can see in the past, and now, he was never and will never be a romantic. He will tell me how it is, and that is it. I like that, though. I bet while he's kissing me, he still looks like he could tear off the heads of any onlookers.

I'm about to smile, about to kiss him once more for good measure, until the door to our room bursts open. On instinct, I jump from his grip. I don't mean to, it just happens. I stare at the person in my room, Anne. She looks worried, really worried.

"Protector Henry Casdin requests all people of the Outcasts report to the meeting room immediately."

"Why? What's wrong?"

I ask, stepping closer to Charon. Anne brushes a loose strand of hair from her face, tucking it back inside her bun.

"Gather your things, your guns, your ammo. We are moving out tonight."

I look at Charon. Tonight? No there's a couple more days left. We can't be heading out tonight, _now_. I feel fear rush through my body, my heart rate accelerating. Anne leaves without another word, and I fumble with my hands.

"Charon I'm scared."

I blurt out as he slides on his armor. He doesn't seem scared. He seems determined. This is what he was made for, what he told me he was trained for. I'm sure he enjoys the thrill of it all, but I don't. I knew this day would come, but not for another _two_ days. I haven't had time to mentally prepare myself for it all.

"You have no reason to be. I will protect you."

He hands me my shotgun, and takes his. He cocks it once, and straps it to his back. I find my legs, they took a quick vacation. But I find them, and follow him out of the room. It's like we didn't even kiss. His entire persona changed, he's all business, all military. His back is straight, his pace steady as we join up with the Outcasts in the halls while they fumble for their armor, their guns. I hold my stupid shotgun close, like I'm hugging it. I don't want to do this. This is scary. I want to go to bed, and kiss Charon.

We follow everyone down the stairs, all moving in unison, to the meeting room. There's a big oval table, so that everyone can sit comfortably, even in their armor. Charon takes a seat next to me, and no one looks at me. They're all focused on the front of the room, even though Henry isn't even here yet.

"Charon…what's going on?"

"I do not know."

He whispers, his voice monotone. Henry finally walks into the room, and takes his place up at the front. He looks worried, nervous as he paces back and forth.

"Outcasts, I have just received word that the Brotherhood of Steel has caught wind of our plan. Time is short, we must infiltrate _now_ or all is lost. Catching them off guard was our biggest offence, we _must_ take it _back_. I expect everyone suited, ready, and out in the truck in _five minutes_! Move, men, move!"

They found out? How? I don't know Henry didn't say. Everyone stood up, but Henry raised his hand in front of him. Everyone stopped moving, and just stared at him.

"Remember troops, we must capture Rothchild and Lyons, our main objective is to keep Dez safe! Do not let any hard come to her and _do not_ let Lyons escape!"

Everyone salutes, but I'm too shocked to. I look up at Charon as we're pushed from the room, fear in my eyes.

"Come, Dez. Where is your armor?"

"Uh…I…"

"Forget it."

He says and drags me down the hall. He puts his hand on a door, but it's locked.

"Piece of shit."

He mutters, and takes his shotgun from his back. I cover my ears, just as he squeezes the trigger. It doesn't help. I can still hear the blast, still feel it vibrate through my bones and body. It doesn't scare me, but it does make me jump. It makes my body react, and become a part of all this mess. I follow him into the room, and I see tons of armor around.

"Suit up, quickly."

I don't argue. I get the armor on quickly, still not use to it. It's heavy, but light in some places. I can carry more with it on, than I could without it. I know that sounds stupid, but Power Armor does do that. Charon walks around, taking guns from the shelves and looking at them. He thrusts a Chinese Assault Rifle into my hands, and glares down at me.

"Take this with your shotgun."

I nod, and put on my helmet.

"Come."

His pace is quick, and I stumble in my armor trying to keep up. I strap my shotgun to my back as I walk, remembering the training Henry put me under. Shotguns are close-ranged weapons, I shouldn't use it unless I have to. I have to use the rifle, it is long-ranged. We make it outside just as the truck is starting up, and Charon jumps in the back of it with everyone else. He offers me his hand, and pulls me up as the truck pulls away. We take a seat next to someone, I don't know who. We all look the same in this armor. I try to hide it, but I'm shaking. I'm terrified, horrified, mortified. I don't know what to expect, but I can tell it's nothing good.

In my head, as I clutch my rifle in my hands, I try to soothe myself. _Prepare to fight, Dez. Prepare to lose all you've ever had. This is what you've wanted_. The voice inside my head speaks, and I try to ignore it. I try to push back the feelings of anticipation, of wanting to fight. I can't deny it, though. I can't deny that I've looked forward to this. To getting revenge on the Brotherhood for all they've done to me. I want to confront Lyons myself, before anyone else can get to him. The anger I hold towards him is immense, I want my own revenge.

"As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…"

The troop next to me prays, I can hear his voice leaking out through his helmet. It causes me to look up at Charon. Charon's eyes are set forward, his lips pursed, his arms crossed. He's ready for this, everyone is. I'm the only one…I'm the only one shaking silly in my armor. I can't be scared. I have to be brave. I have to be strong, no matter what happens.


	25. Truth or Consequence

The truck stops, and we all file out. We are a half-mile from the Citadel, I can see it in the distance.

"There is but one entrance, it is heavily guarded. Remember this day, troops. It will go down in history, you will be remembered for this. Keep Dez safe, capture Lyons and Rothchild. Move out!"

Henry yells, I guess stealth isn't a part of the plan. I lift my heavy feet, feeling them press down on the dirt. Charon walks beside me, steady, his shotgun in his hand. I sense something wrong, something not right. I look at him, giving him a look of concern. Then I realize I can't see his face.

"You have no worries, Dez. I will protect you."

"I-I know I-I'm just nervous."

"Remember no matter the outcome of this, I will always keep you safe, until I can no longer move in my own body."

I'm worried. I'm scared. Charon's talking like a madman and everyone around me is prepared for battle. Everyone except me. They're all trained for this, all prepared, I've never done something like this. Not that I can remember, anyways. I've never been placed in such a large-scale fight. All I've done since I woke up is kill some Tenpenny Tower people and a couple of Raiders. I have no idea how this is going to play out. I have no idea what to expect. But I can't be scared. I can't be.

With each step I take, the Citadel gets closer and closer. It looms up ahead like a giant, foreboding castle. It scares me, but I push the fright back into my mind. I can't be scared. I have to be brave, for everyone. I have to be brave for Charon, and for the people I'm doing this for. I'm doing this for the people of the Wasteland, even though they might hate me for it. I have to do this, or no one else will. I will get Lyons. I know where he rests, I know where he will hide. I'll go there, rush into the Citadel, go there and get him. My armor will protect me from the bullets, but not for long. I have to be fast, quick, I have to move.

I take one last look at Charon as we approach. Everyone starts running, rushing towards the Citadel. Charon's lips move, and in the chaos, I hear him, and I see his eyes close.

"Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen."

There's no time for me to wonder, no time for me to ask questions. His eyes snap open, and he rushes ahead of me, firing shots off with his gun. I follow him, I follow everyone, as we rush the gates of the Citadel. We push past the few guards, and catch the many Knights off kilter. They didn't expect us tonight, Henry was smart to force us into this. I feel vibrations on my armor, from bullets either at me, or bouncing off of me. I turn quickly, taking aim and squeezing the trigger of my gun. They don't know it's me. They think I'm another Outcast. They have no idea.

Charon stays close, his shotgun somehow penetrating their Power Armor in just two shots. One of the troops, Outcast, climbs stairs off to my left, taking a high-ground and firing shots below. Through my helmet, I see Sara. I see Gunny. They rush to put their helmets on, they don't notice me.

"That'll teach you to mess with me!"

Charon screams, and I can't help but stare at him. When his gun clicks empty, he replaces the barrel and continues firing in one, swift, fluid motion. He expertly hits his targets, I've never seen someone work like that. I see Gunny from the corner of my eye, and I know they know. Charon stands close to me, protecting me from enemies who I can't protect myself from. Gunny stares from across the courtyard. They know now. No one else travels with Charon. I've been discovered.

But it doesn't matter. I have one main objective: get Lyons. I feel my body merging with my armor, and I can move faster. I can move swiftly towards the A Ring doors of the Citadel. Lyons will be there, I will confront him. I have to get to him. A bullet pierces a soft piece in my armor, in my side. I feel the pain, and call out.

"Fuck!"

I scream, and suddenly, I'm not myself. I feel different, I feel angry, I feel happy. I'm in my own element, I feel like my old self. My gun is like an extension of my arm, and I use it. I move quick, shooting the person who shot me. Blood seeps from the wound, but I work past it. My mind doesn't register the pain, my armor hides from everyone I'm wounded. I run towards the doors, I throw myself against them, and stumble into the empty halls.

The doors close, Charon appears behind me. The noises from the outside are soft, muffled. My feet and armor clank and echo in the hall. I wince from the pain in my side, but I ignore it. I can't concentrate on that right now. Slowly, Charon and I walk. I hear his breathing, he's wheezing, I hear him cough and double over against the wall.

"Charon?"

I ask, concerned. He covered his mouth with his hand, wiping it. Blood drips on to the floor, and it's not mine.

"Charon, are you alright?"

He can't be hurt. He can't be. His eyes meet mine, even though my helmet, and my heart races.

"I am fine. I have not been shot. Go."

He wipes his hand on his pants, and clutches his gun close. I notice his stance isn't as strong. I notice with each step he takes, there's pain in his eyes. Something is wrong, terribly wrong, but I can't worry about it now. I have to find Lyons. I feel my own blood trickle down my side, my shorts absorbing some of it. I don't have much time before this wound becomes serious, and I have to be finished with Lyons before then. I will not let him kill me. I will not die here, in the Citadel, along with everyone I have come to hate and despise. I send the pain I feel from my side below, into the recesses of my mind.

Charon follows me into the room where Lyons once worked. I know he's here. I can feel it.

"I will wait here."

Charon says, gripping a nearby rail. His knuckles turn white, as he supports himself. Something is wrong, but I can't focus on it. I can't pay attention to it. I have to find Lyons.

"Lyons!"

I scream, taking off my helmet as I limp down the stairs. I try to hide my limp as best I can, but there's only so much I can do.

"I knew you'd be in the middle of this, Dezbe."

I almost fall down the stairs as Lyons appears from a room to my far left. I hear Charon cock his gun, ready for any tricks Lyons might have. I stop walking down the stairs, keeping my position, keeping my eye on him.

"You _lied_ to me."

I hiss. Of all the fucked up lies I've heard since leaving here, Lyons is by far the worst one. He lied about who I was, about my life, about Charon. He never told me a damn word of truth.

"I did so for the benefit of the people!"

"Bullshit!"

I scream, pointing my weapon menacingly at him.

"You _locked_ me in here to _use_ and abuse! You fucking lied to me! For _nothing_! For you own sick, twisted, pleasure and advancement!"

"I knew I should have killed you when I had the chance! You have been nothing but a menace! A wrench in the plans I have worked my whole life for!"

"What you planned is fucking sick, Lyons. What you did was even worse. I hope you and Sara burn in hell for all that you did."

I watch as he looks up at Charon. A sick, twisted smile etches across his face, and he slowly paces back and forth.

"Ah, Charon. I see you've somehow found a way to reunite yourself with Dezbe. No surprise there, your kind was always determined. Trained, ruthless, killers. Designed and made for tracking, assassinations, stealth and obedience. Tell me, how did it feel knowing you killed your own family? Did it make you angry? Do you remember your superior? He was my great-great-great, you get the point, grandfather. I'm sure you couldn't have forgotten. You're going to kill the blood that made you? Squeeze the trigger on the very people who made you possible?"

"This doesn't have anything to do with him!"

I yell, angry. Lyons shake his head.

"Oh no, I'm afraid it does in a way. You see, had he not been taken into the facility, Charon would be dead. Killed from the Great War, and he would not be alive today. Had he not survived, you would not be here, Dez. You would be dead as well, from the mercy of the Wasteland. Tell me Charon, have you told her about your jobs? Have you told her of the countless men, women, and _children_ you were ordered to kill? No, I presume you haven't. With all that blood on your hands, I suspect you no longer care about who you aim that gun of yours at. It sickens me, not only to know humans now lay with ghouls, but that there are humans _disgusting_ enough to do so."

I don't want to hear any of it. I don't want to hear what else he has to say. I squeeze the trigger of my gun, letting a spray of bullets fire out. Lyons died before he hits the ground, blood seeps from his mouth. Anger, rage, it pumps in my veins. I hate him, his death brings me nothing. I don't feel peace. I feel empty, I feel nothing. I hear Charon coughing above me, but I don't look. I stare at Lyons' dead body, stare at the puddle of blood. I hate this world.

Putting on my helmet, I radio in Henry.

"Lyons is dead."

I say, holding my hand to the earpiece. I wait for his reply.

"All troops fall back! Fall back!"

My eyes grow wide at the sound of urgency in his voice. I jerk my neck towards Charon.

"We have to run, we have to fall back."

I say, limping up the stairs. The pain in my side hits me like it never has before. I feel the blood dripping down my right leg, soiling my shoes. Charon looks at me, his eyes glazed, his body limp.

"Go…I…will catch…up…"

"No! Come on!"

I take hold of his arm, but he pulls out of my grip.

"_Go_!"

He screams, falling back on the rail. He clings to it, he can't stand without it.

"Charon…Charon what's wrong? Come on, I can help you come on…"

I sling his arm around my shoulders, dropping my gun. I don't need it, I have another. I slide my arm around his waist. Without the Power Armor, this wouldn't be possible. Man, I'm glad I have it. Charon wheezes in my ear, I can't see well out of this stupid helmet, but I won't take it off.

"Dez, you have to _hurry_. Let me go."

I hold onto him tighter, tears welling in my eyes.

"No. No you're coming with _me_. I have to know you're _safe_."

I'm not going out there without him. I just got him back, I'm not leaving him in here. He's coming out with me, or neither of us are coming at all.

"Troops fall back! The place is going to blow!"

Shit. Shit. I shuffle my feet closer to the door, and push it open with my shoulder. The sight before me damn near knocks me off my feet. Dead soldiers, Knights, lie around everywhere. The courtyard is filled with blood, it's destroyed, it's chaotic. I never want to see something like this again. I never want to see this again. The sigh shocks me, but Charon's weight on my body brings me back. With my side bleeding out, I don't know how long I can hold him for.

"Dez!"

I hear an Outcast call my name, and I look over. They rush over to me, and Charon lets himself off of my body. He stands, but I can tell it takes all he has.

"Dez we have to _move_!"

"No! No Charon's hurt!"

"So aren't you! Come on!"

Before I can argue, before I can persist, the troop picks me up over his shoulders. He starts to jog away, and I see Charon forcing himself to run. He's trying, he has to get out. He has to. I kick and flail, but the Outcast doesn't let me go. I feel the blood from my side dripping out of my armor, out of the steel boot that engulfs my foot. Hot, angry tears fall and slide down my face.

We make it outside, a few hundred yards from the gates. The troop puts me on the ground, and I look around. Everyone is here, everyone. I take off my helmet, trying to stand.

"We have to get Charon! Where's Charon?"

I scream, but I can't stand. I clutch my side in pain, agony. I try to get back to the gates, but Henry grabs me, restraining me.

"You'll die if you go back in there!"

"I don't care! Let me go! Go get Charon!"

Henry's eyes meet mine, he sees it in me.

"L.J., J.T., get in there and get him out!"

"But sir—"

"I said _move_ soldier!"

They don't argue. They nod in their helmets, and begin to jog towards the Citadel.

"They have to get him!"

"Dez, relax, you're losing a lot of blood."

I sit on the ground, the dirt crushing under my armor. The two Outcasts make it halfway back, halfway, before the entire place fills with flames, explodes, making the night sky day again.

"No!"

I scream, losing control of my body. I stand up, adrenaline and anger fueling me. I start to run towards the burning, destroyed building. J.T. and L.J. start to run back, they grab my arms, they hold me back.

"No let me go! Let me go! Let go you fucks!"

I scream, kicking, trying to break free of their Power Armor induced holds. It's useless. Useless. The flames dance in front of me, they shine off my moist cheeks, shine against my tears. Smoke curls up in the air, and I feel so weak. I lose my strength. I fall to my knees, the Outcasts still holding my arms. The flames, the smoke, it mocks me. It laughs in my face. It laughs because I finally got it all back. I finally did something, found Charon, found a piece of my past…and then it was taken away. Just as instantly, as swiftly as he had come, the fucking Brotherhood took him away. Just like they did the first time. They took him. If I ever see another Knight, I will rip their throats out. I will kill them. I'll never be the same.

I feel J.T. and L.J. release my arms. It doesn't matter. I stare at the massive, burning building. I stare at the flames, helpless, lost. Tears flow freely from my face. Everything I've ever loved, has been taken from me. Everything I've ever known, ever come to care for, taken. My hero, my voice of reason, the one person to care, to sacrifice, is gone. He didn't leave, he was _taken_. They _took_ him from me. Ripped him right out of my hands. I hope they rot in hell for eternity. I hope all the members of the Brotherhood of Steel burn slowly, and are tortured just like Charon was.

Pops, the sound of the building falling in, echoes for miles in the barren desert. I can see in the distance, by the light of the fire, people who have come to see the flames up close. They stare in wonder, in amazement. They're impressed by the sheer size, but they don't know. They don't know what all this has cost, what I've lost in it.

"Charon…"

I mutter, as I tear my gaze from the flames. I look at the ground, and hit it with my fists. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and look up to see Henry.

"He will be remembered, Dez. We will record him in our history. He died for the greater good."

I stare at Henry. Stare at him, looking for answers I know he doesn't have. His image is blurred by tears.

"We have to _get _him..."

"Dez…there is nothing left."

"We have to _try_."

"It is impossible."

No. No nothing, nothing is impossible. It was impossible for me to survive a bullet to the brain, but I _did_. It was impossible for Charon to break out of his contract, but he _did_. If we only find his gun, if we never find anything else, at least it's _something_. We have to _try_. My tears drip off my cheeks, they land in the dirt, making most marks. It's so bright it feels like day. I can see the reflections and shadows of the fire in my armor, on the ground. Charon…Charon…

"Commander! Commander take a look!"

I look up towards the Citadel. Henry takes a pair of binoculars, and peers through them. In the distance, in the far, far distance, something moves. Henry takes the goggles from his face, his face shocked.

"Men! Get in there! Now! Move!"

Three troops rush up, rush towards the building. I pick myself up and stare. I stare in the distance. I find my feet, I force them to move, force them to run. I run with the troops, there has to be hope. I have to hope. Please, if there's anything in this world worth saving, let it be him. Let it be him, my hero, my Charon. The pain in my side is nothing, I ignore it, I run as fast as I can, but it's not fast enough.

The three troops get there before me. I stop running. I stop and fall to my knees, staring at what I see in front of me.

"Come on soldier, you did good. Let's get you back to Independence."

One of them says. Two of them sling arms over their shoulders. I see his face, even in the shadows. I see it's him. Charon. The smell of melted leather, of burnt flesh, of blood, penetrated my nostrils, but I don't care. The third troop comes over to me, helping me up. He puts his arm around my waist, my arm around his shoulders. He supports me. We wait for the other two to catch up. Charon…my joy is so immense that I don't even realize what's going on. His feet drag, blood drips from his mouth, and his breathing is shallow and hoarse. But he's _alive_.

I walk with the troop. My feet heavy, the blood moist and cold. The pops, cracks, and noises from the fire are the only thing making noise. We're all silent, all quiet, there's no need for words. We make it back to the truck. It takes one person to help me in it, it takes three of them to put Charon in. They lie him down between us, and we sit on either side of him. He gasps for air, the smell of burnt flesh, burnt leather, intoxicates everyone. I watch his eyes, they open, and slowly scan every helmet, until he gets to me. He stops, and I see his fingers twitch.

"Hey…you…"

I breathe, smiling as I hold my side. His eyes turn to slits, and he rasps.

"No…dying on…me here…that's…an order…"

I'm still smiling at him. Everyone is silent. In my head, it's just me and him, no one else is here.

"You…you still have to…tell me all the…reasons why…you care…you have…to protect me…"

His hand closes in a fist, and his eyes squeeze shut. I know he's in pain, but I can't let him go to sleep. Something in my head tells me he's not supposed to. Something tells me to keep him awake.

"No…sleeping…you have to stay…awake…"

His eyes open slightly, I can tell he's fighting. I give him a wide smile, one I saved just for him.

"Don't be…don't be a pussy…you can do it…"

Everyone around me chuckles softly. I feel the urge to close my own eyes, but I know I can't.

"Charon…I'm…tired, too…"

I say, blinking profusely. I let my head fall on my shoulder, but I keep my eyes open.

"Hey…hey Charon…"

The outer lines of all I see turns black.

"There's no heaven, Charon…no…point in dying…"

Slowly, very slowly, my eyes close. I let my body relax, my hand falls from my side. I feel so tired, so relaxed. There's a smile on my face still. A smile, that never showed before. It's a peaceful smile. The kind you get before it all fades to black, before the world slips away and there's nothing left. The kind that happens, when you know you've done everything you could do, and there's no more pain, there's no regrets. A smile, that makes everyone around you know, you're finally at peace.


	26. Until We Close Our Eyes for Good

"We're so proud of you, honey."

A sad, sad tune plays in the background. I'm in a warm, warm white room. In front of me, stand my mother, my father. They're holding one another in their arms. They smile at me. My mother, I have her eyes.

"We knew you could do it."

My dad tells me. He smiles at me, proud.

"Momma, daddy…"

I say, seeing tears in their eyes.

"We never lost faith in you. We knew you could do it."

My mother, her voice is filled with pride. I wrap my arms around myself, I feel so warm.

"You can stay with us now, if you want, darling."

Daddy. I look at him. He's a spitting image of me. They're so proud, I can feel it. They're so happy with me, they love me.

"No, no daddy. I can't."

I tell them, relishing in the warmth around me. Their faces speak volumes, the knowing looks they pass to me.

"Why, honey?"

My mother has a knowing smile on her face. She knows, she just wants to hear me say it.

"I have to go back, momma. I have to see Charon. I'm not done yet, momma. I have to do this for myself, now."

"We understand, sweetheart. We love you, we're so proud of you. We knew you could do it."

"I love you too, daddy. Will you be here, when I come back?"

"Oh darling, we'll always be here. Keep us in your heart, don't forget us. We're always watching you."

"That's creepy, dad. But okay. I will. I love you."

"We love you too. Goodbye, honey."

I wave to them as they slowly vanish in front of me. It's okay. I don't want to stay this time. I want to go back, start again, start it for real. I know they're proud. I know they're happy. I know that neither of them died in vain, that I've done everything I needed to do for them. I feel the warmth slipping away from me, but it's okay. I want to go back, to return to the Capital Wasteland. I want to find a home. Make one with Charon. I want to…be with him again. I want to make it all right.

I open my eyes, and see Anne staring down at me.

"Good morning. We almost thought we lost you."

She smiles down at me. She looks like my mom. I remember what she looks like now. She's beautiful.

"W-where's…Charon?"

I stutter, my vision going in and out of focus. Finding my body, I move slowly. I'm on a bed, a warm bed, safe in the fort. There's a bandage wrapped tightly around my waist. I feel it when I sit up. I look down on it when it causes me a jolt of pain. I'm alive, though. That's all that matters.

"I am right here, Dez."

Charon. His voice rings in my ears. It makes my heart race and jump with excitement. I look to my left, then my right. He beside me. On my right. He's in nothing but boxers, plaid ones, red ones. Bandages are wrapped around his palms, strips of gauze are delicately placed on large areas of his body. He has a nose tube on his face, and an oxygen tank lies beside his bed. I smile at him, weakly, but it's a smile.

"You're okay…"

I say, and he nods. His neck is bandaged. Most of him is.

"I was worried about you, Dez."

"You…look like you're worse off than me."

"It does not matter."

Anne walks to the ends of our beds, her arms crossed.

"I think you're both incredibly lucky and incredibly foolish. Dez, you have three broken ribs and have lost a _lot_ of blood. It's a damn good thing radiation heals you, or you would have died. And Charon, I _told_ you not to go! You're lucky I found a solution to this problem. It'll still take a while before the two of you can return to normal. You're both insane."

Anne throws her medical clipboard to the ground and storms out. I laugh a bit, and then wince. My chest hurts. My ribs hurt. It doesn't matter, I'm alive. Charon's alive. That's all I care about.

"You look like a mummy, Charon."

"He received third and fourth-degree burns to most of his body. The leather armor melted to his skin. We're going to have to use graphing surgery to fix him. You're not out of the woods yet, Charon, so don't think you are."

Anne said as she walked back in the room. I looked down at Charon, frowning.

"Finding a donor on the other hand…that's the hard part. Ghouls have specific, modified DNA, human skin won't take. It'll cause gang green. And also, any living ghoul doesn't have enough skin to offer."

The tone in her voice held a hint of mockery. I tried to ignore it, as I looked down at Charon. He reached towards me, his bandaged palm feeling the edge of my bed. I saw pain in his eyes, and gave him my hand. He ran his rough fingers over my smooth ones, and took my hand in his. He brought it up to his lips, and I felt him kissing the back of my hand.

"What about me?"

I blurted out, not taking my eyes off Charon, with his eyes closed, my hand on his mouth, the oxygen being pumped into his system.

"Excuse me?"

Anne said, and I tore away from my gaze at Charon.

"What about me? I'm resistant to radiation. I can regenerate skin if you give me enough radiation I bet. Charon might take to my skin. I'm almost a ghoul, aren't I?"

She stared at me, thoughts racing over her face. I felt Charon put my hand on his chest, and cover it with his. I could hardly feel his heart. I guess our happy reunion is pretty short lived.

"…That might work…yes…your resistance to radiation yet ability to heal as a normal person and re-grow tissue makes you a perfect candidate…yes, it might work."

I smiled.

"So, do I lay down and you put me under? How does this work?"

Anne paced around the room, getting random medical supplies ready. I looked down at Charon after I felt him squeezing my hand.

"You do not have to do this, Dez."

He wheezed, his eyes just hardly open slits. No. No I have to. I have to, because I remember. I remember more clearly now, my past, what I've done. I haven't done much good. I haven't saved as many people as I feel I could have. But if there's anyone worth saving, it's Charon, it's him. He's worth it, I have to do this. For him, because he's saved me so much. I want to save him, now. I want to be there, to do something right. I have to make everything right.

"Shut up and deal with it."

I tell him, smiling. Charon doesn't smile back. He just lays there, wheezing, his slit-like eyes darting around under his eyelids. It hurts me, to see him so sick. To…not be able to make it go away.

"Anne, what happened to him? Why did…why did he cough up blood?"

"I wouldn't worry about that. I've discovered a cure for _that_ little mishap. Right now we need to focus on this surgery. We've waited long enough as it is."

"He'll be okay, right?"

"Dez, I never met a pair of miracles before, but that's what you two are. Him living through that explosion, let alone getting _out_ is spectacular. Here, let go of his hand."

"No."

"What?"

She comes towards me with a Stimpack of radiation. Charon grips my hand in his, I don't want to let him go.

"No put him down first, him first."

Anne sighs, but she agrees. I look over at Charon, at all the gauze and bandages that cover his body. A piece of gauze missed a spot on his leg, I can see bone. His tissues, they're damaged. They're gone. It makes me sad. It makes me so, so sad. I watch Anne walk to the IV Charon has hooked into his arm. She puts a fluid in the tube, and he looks at me. I can't help but feel tears in my eyes.

"Hey you, this makes up for all the times you saved my ass, okay? Okay."

I tell him, as the liquid drips. Anne takes the oxygen tubes from his nose, and puts a mask over his face. I sniff, crying. He hold my hand tightly, looking at me.

"Charon, I need you to count backwards from ten for me."

The mask fogs up as Charon counts. Slowly, slowly, I feel his grip on my hand loosen. His eyes close, and he falls asleep. It hurts me, because it makes me think of him as dead. His body, destroyed, covered in bandages, hardly breathing. I look at Anne, tears in my eyes.

"He can have all my skin."

I tell her, hoping it will help. She gives me a sad smile. She's older than me. I'm just a kid.

"While I am graphing, I am going to be giving you a strong injection of radiation. It will increase your healing process, so that your skin will begin to scab over quickly, making the healing process easier."

I shrug, letting her stick an IV in my arm.

"I don't care what you do. Just…is he going to live? Will he be okay?"

She gives me a look. It's a realistic answer. I can tell.

"I'm not sure, Dez. He may, he may not. Charon is strong, but I think his strength is pretty much drained. If, by chance, he died while in the middle of this, I will stop."

"No, no you keep going. You save him."

She shakes her head.

"There isn't much I can do to save a burn victim of this degree."

I narrow my eyes at her as she messes with the bag above my head. In my other arm, there's a needle for blood.

"If I wake up and he isn't here, I will kill you. You _can't_ let him die."

Anne gives me a soft look, and motions for me to lie back. I do, and I look at Charon. He's sleeping, his arms at his sides, his eyes closed. I reach a bare arm over to him, and touch the exposed muscle on his arm. It's okay, Charon, because it's me and you now. Because we're going to do it right this time, so then there's no reason for you to die. People who have as much hope as we have don't die. We live, because we fight. We're not good, so we won't die young.

"Count backwards from ten for me."

Anne places another mask on my face, and I start to count. Slowly, slowly, like Charon, my eyes close. I feel my body slipping away from me, and then it all turns black. I'm not awake anymore. I'm gone, left to the mercy of my mind. _You stupid girl! You're going to be scarred forever for this! _ I don't care. I don't know who you are, or where you came from, but I don't like you. _Oh silly, stupid, girl. I am you. You created me. When you were sad, pathetic, lonely. You have the chance to be powerful now, you're not meek. You can take over, take control._ But…but I'm not sad anymore. I'm not lonely. I have Charon. Maybe I missed that memo in the past, but I won't miss it this time. I know I used to hate myself, I know I used to be bad. But not anymore. I can't be. I can still be a renegade, but I can do good, too. If I created you, I can un-create you. _Good luck with that, girl. You can't get rid of me because I _am_ you. I am everything you ever wanted to be. You don't need that ghoul, you don't need anybody. All you need is me._

You're wrong. I'm wrong. I need Charon. I need him in my life, to keep my grounded. To tell me of the things I can't remember I love him. _That, has been your downfall._ Then let it be. He hasn't done anything to hurt me. He cares about me. _But you don't know if he loves you_. I think anyone who does what he does for someone loves them. I don't have to hear it, I know it. I don't need you, or anybody, telling me otherwise. Even if it is my own voice, I don't have to listen. _You're giving up a great thing, Dezbe. You can be something great, take control of the East Coast. People fear you, they adore you, you can control them._ I don't want control, I don't want power. I want Charon to live through this. I want to go back, I want to see Gob and his baby. I want to fix it all, make it all right. I've done so many bad things…so many…I can't keep it up. It's killing me. _You're a fool, Dezbe, a fool._

I don't care. As long as Charon is with me, as long as I have a gun and some food to keep me going, I'm alright. I don't need anything, anymore. I did what I was put here to do. My father, my mother, they knew. They knew before anyone else did, about the Brotherhood. I took control of my own life. I did something that no one else could. Clean, fresh water flows for everyone. These people are free, and their issues can work themselves out now. I want to make a home, I want to play piano, I want to be with Charon. I don't want anything but that. _And what if he dies, Dezbe? What if he never wakes up?_ He will. He has to. _But if he doesn't?_ Then…then I don't know. I'll burn that bridge when I get to it. I'll…I'll handle it later. Not now. Right now, he's alive, beside me, next to me. He's with me, just like he always has been. Now, I can pay him back. For all the times he's saved my life since I left the Citadel, for all the times I can't remember, I can pay him back.

"Dez…Dez can you hear me? Wake up, come on honey…"

Already? It's only been a few minutes. It hasn't been long. Charon…Charon is he okay?

"Ugh…"

I moan, opening my eyes. I feel sick, probably from the anesthesia. The room comes into focus, and I feel numbing pain all around my body. Moving my hands, I feel thick gauze wrapped around my torso, around my thighs.

"Here, this will help you."

I feel a prick, as Anne sticks me with something. A few seconds later, the warm, comforting feeling of radiation seeps into my bloodstream. It's different than normal radiation. It's stronger. It's better. I feel the pain subsiding, feel my body being able to move. I feel the places under the bandages tingle and tickle, like I have pins and needles in them.

"How…Charon…"

"The surgery took the better half of five hours."

Five hours? Has it been that long? No, no its only been a minute.

"Charon…"

I mutter, my body not quite meeting up with my mind.

"Charon is waking up as well. The surgery was a success."

"Good…good…"

I mutter, tossing my arms in the air. There's gauze on them, too. How much skin did it take? Whatever. It doesn't matter. As long as Charon is okay.

"He sustained severe muscle tissue damage as well. I had to make an incision on your right thigh to retrieve some. You may not be able to hold yourself up for a few days. I suggest you both stay here until fit. And this time, _listen to me_."

I smile up at the ceiling at Anne's words. Okay. This time, Charon, we'll listen to the good doctor's orders. I turn my heavy head, looking at him. His chest moves up and down with ease, Anne injects him with the same stuff she must have put in me.

"This will help speed up the healing, but it will still make you bedridden for a few days."

She tells us, walking away from Charon. I blink, watching him wake up, watching him move. I see him twitch his legs, moving his limbs and breathing easy.

"Charon?"

I say, still weak and drained from the medicine. Slowly, he turns his head towards me. I see his milky eyes, blue behind that, trying to focus on my face.

"You okay?"

I ask. He slowly nods, blinking. I smile again, sighing. Anne replaces our IVs with a glowing, green substance.

"Radiation from a Glowing One, enhanced. I must say in all my career, I've never had to do this."

I watch the goo seep down the tube, and disappear into my veins. It warms me, flowing all around, from the inside out. I see the same sense of pleasure wash over Charon's face as the goo seeps into him, too. Everything is going to be okay now, we're safe in the fort, and Charon lived through it. I bet it hurt, a lot, to have your armor melted to your body.

"Hey…what…where's his armor?"

I ask Anne, moving my head on the pillow.

"We had to throw it out. It was beyond saving. Most of it was melted to his skin."

"Can…can you get him a new one? Please?"

"I'm sure we can find a similar suit, yes. I'll tell Henry to have his troops keep a lookout. As for now, I'm going to take a well-needed nap. I suggest you two _stay in bed_. Don't move, unless you _have_ to. Just lay there."

"We will."

I tell her, and she leaves. I hear the door slam, and once I know she's gone, I force myself up. Charon watches me, but doesn't say anything. I swing my legs over the side of my bed, I'm in just my panties, bandages substitute for a bra. Balancing on my left leg, I stand up, holding on to the IV stand for extra support. Using my lower back, I push the bed. I push it, until I feel it bump against Charon's. I smile to myself, and sit back down, out of breath. The radiation helps, but it doesn't work very fast. It works better, though. I can feel my skin tickling, tingling, working.

Climbing back in bed, I pull a thin sheet over me. I turn my head to Charon, he's looking at me.

"You…did not have to do that…"

He rasps. He's still weak. I'd be surprised if he wasn't.

"I wanted to."

"You…saved my life."

"Just like you saved mine."

"You…will have…scars from this…"

"Scars tell a story, remember? This one is going to be the coolest, too."

I smile at him, and he closes his eyes. Anne had put on that oxygen hose, hooked it around his head, since he has no ears, and put it right up his nose-hole.

"Charon?"

He opens his eyes again.

"Don't…die on me okay?"

"I…have been ordered not to…"

He remembers. He remembers.

"I order you to stay alive. I don't know if that still means anything, but it makes me feel better."

"Coming…from you…it means something…"

I smile at him, and grab his hand gently. We're all gauzed up, all sore and wounded. We're stuck in this stupid clinic for a while, but somehow, I'm alright with that.

"I was scared, you know. When the building blew up…thought you died…"

I muttered, closing my eyes.

"No…I made it out…"

"I know, I was there."

"Yes."

"I didn't think you would…I was scared."

"You…do not have…to be scared of…me leaving you…I will…not let you…live alone out here."

He squeezed my hand lightly. I could see dust particles floating in the sunbeams that shone through, the last light of day.

"When we get better…I want to see Gob."

"Yes."

"I want…to make a home…"

"We can do that."

"I want to…do what I want to do. What you want to do."

Opening my eyes, I caught him looking at me. His eyes met mine, and made a feeling warmer than radiation in my chest.

"I wish…to also make a home…"

"We can go to Megaton. I'll make them let me live there."

"Perhaps…"

"I want to…keep them safe. They'll like me then."

"Hush."

He whispers, and squeezes my hand. It's quiet. I can't hear the troops training, or the sound of people walking. All I hear is Charon's breathing, the sound of air going in and out of his lungs.

"Charon?"

He looks at me again, blinking slowly.

"You have my skin. You're literally stuck with me."

"Yes. I am."

I close my eyes, smiling. The radiation from the IV makes me sleepy, but sleepy in a good way. I feel Charon's fingers over mine, feel his rough, damaged skin. It's okay, because my body is messed up, too. When we get better, we'll leave here. We'll go off into the desert, and see Gob. We'll see him, and I'll meet the baby I helped bring into the world. It'll all be okay. I hope. I know there's still Brotherhood out there, enemies of mine I haven't yet found, but that's okay. I know now, I'm brave. I know I can fight, I can save myself. More importantly, I know I'm not a bad person.

"We can go to Tenpenny Tower."

Charon says, and I remember. We have a home there, a room. I don't need to look. I can go home after this. A real home. My home.

"Yeah, we can."

Even though what I had to do to get that home was wrong, I'm happy it's there. I forgot all about it, forgot that I have my own, warm bed. That it has a beautiful view of the desert, and that it's the safest place in the world. It's way up high, away from everyone, everything. No one gets in, Roy makes sure of that. I look at Charon, his eyes are soft and he wheezes.

"I want to go home, Charon."

"We can."

Home. At first, I think home was the vault. Then…I think it was Megaton. After that a place called Rockopolis. Now, it's Tenpenny Tower. I wonder if I'm going to move anywhere else, if anything is going to happen. I don't know, and right now, it doesn't matter. All that matters is Charon, him being alive, him being back, him holding onto my hand.

"It must have been hard for you…to pretend that you didn't know me, that you weren't who you are."

I whisper, thinking someone can hear me when no one is in earshot. Charon takes a deep breath in, his eyes focused on me, only me.

"Yes. It was."

"Didn't you miss me?"

"Very…very much."

I smile at him, and rub my fingers on the back of his palm.

"We took down the Brotherhood."

"…Yes…some of it."

"Are you okay?"

"I…am tired…Dez."

"Sleep, I'll sleep with you."

He nods, and I watch as his eyes close slowly. There's no worries now, nothing to be scared of. I have him, he's holding my hand, he's here to stay. I'm here to stay now, too. It's me, Dezbe. Not all the way, not partially, but some of me. Some of who I used to be shines through, I can feel it, when I fight. I can feel it when I train, when I'm with Charon. It's okay if I don't remember all the way, so long as I never have to be alone out here. I can manage, not knowing, not remembering, so long as Charon is here. He'll always be here, too. He always has been, always will be. I'm not alone anymore, I'm not so scared.


	27. Don't Talk About It

Over the next few days, Charon and I have been working on moving, working on walking. He has a harder time getting on his feet than me, but he's made some pretty good progress. Every morning, Anne wakes us with breakfast, and then she does physical therapy. I thought I could just jump out of bed, which I couldn't. The muscle tissue she took from my thigh, and the amount of skin she took, really affected my body. I fell flat on my ass, and that really hurt. Anne laughed, Charon didn't see. It took him two days, just to do what I did in one. Getting him out of bed…damn it broke my heart.

Even though he didn't complain or say anything, I could see the pain on his face. He was hurting, and it bothered him to even sit up. I watched Anne change his bandages, and almost puked at what I saw. Under each thick piece of gauze, was skin, my skin, that was shriveled, pale white, and scarred. Stitches ran along the edges in some parts, and even though it was disgusting, Anne says it's a good sign. She said that it was taking well.

The radiation really helps, she started doubling Charon's dosage and pretty soon, walking and standing didn't hurt him too much. I was able to walk circles around him though, we won't try running for a bit. Today, though, I get to go outside with Charon. We have to stay out of the sun, though, because of our skin and scars. Anne took my bandages off for good, it was pretty gross. I have giant pink and angry red squares of skin missing. My arms look like I'm a ghoul, but in a way, I kind of like it. No one else in the world looks like this. No one else in the world has the same story as I do.

Anne even managed to get Charon a brand new outfit. Leather, of course, a spitting image of his old one. He can't wear it until he's fully healed, though. For now, she makes us wear loose Brahmin Skin outfits, so that it doesn't irritate our skin. Charon still coughs violently, but Anne said in time that will pass though. She gives him a shot of something every day, I don't know what it is. She doesn't give it to me, though.

"Dez, are you ready?"

Charon asks me as I toss on my shirt. Anne's letting us do this on our own, she thinks we need and deserve some alone time. Thank god. That woman really pisses me off sometimes.

"Yup, you?"

He nods. Finding an outfit large enough to fit him was hard, Anne had to tailor it to him. Charon limps over to me, and I offer to help but he doesn't want it. Because of the fourth-degree burn on his lower leg, it still bothers him to walk. He limps a bit, but other than that he's doing fine. I'm doing better, but still.

"What do you want to do outside, since we can't get sun?"

I ask while we walk out of the clinic.

"Perhaps we could just enjoy being outside. The fresh air might prove good for us."

I agree by nodding. Charon and I come to the top of the stairs, and I take a big breath in.

"It's now or never."

It sounds like we're about to run into another Citadel battle. In truth, it feels the same. I can't even run yet, Charon limps, and we have to climb down stairs. It's a hard feat, when you're recovering. But I step down easy enough, and make room for Charon. He doesn't want my help, so I don't bother to offer it. Slowly, he steps down, pain slightly on his face. We take our time, going foot by foot, step by step. Finally, we get to the ground floor. I jump on the ground in triumph, I feel proud. I turn around and smile back at Charon as he steps on the ground.

"Good."

He mutters, and runs his hands over his head.

"Come on I want to go _outside_."

I say, pointing eagerly towards the door. Charon nods, and together we walk towards the doors. The sun is beautiful, and warm, and lovely. I want to run in it, lay in the dirt, bask in the glow. Anne says we're still prone to infection, so laying in the dirt probably isn't a great idea. Plus, the sun can really mess up my scars, and Charon's healing process. I'm starting to wonder what the point of coming outside even was.

"Dez."

Charon says, and I turn to him. He reaches for me, and kisses the scar on my face. Since the first day Anne let me stand up, Charon's been kissing my head. He's been keeping a closer eye on me than usual, especially when J.T. or McGraw comes and visits.

"Charon, you think after we stop at home, we could go somewhere?"

We start to walk along the shadow of the building, ignoring everyone else who's outside.

"Where would you like to go?"

Another thing I've noticed, is Charon is obviously mean to everyone. He snarls at them, Anne especially, and glares like he's planning on killing them. But with me, with me he's gentle, soft. He has the same look, the look of 'I will kill you', but his eyes are softer. He touch is kind, and his voice isn't as gruff.

"I want to go here."

I turn on my Pip-Boy and point to a place on my map. Riverboat Landing. Charon narrows his eyes at the location.

"That will take you to Point Lookout. It is dangerous there, Dez."

"Point Lookout?"

"A small place that was once an amusement park in Maryland. It is quite devoid of people, very few live there."

"Can we go?"

"I am unsure if I feel comfortable with you visiting there."

"You are coming with me, aren't you?"

"The ferryman usually does not give rides to two parties. However I will not allow you to go alone, therefore, I shall force him to let us pass."

I smile. Now, after we go home and rest up for real, we have an adventure.

"What's there?"

"I am not sure. I have never been there."

Charon and I walk together, enjoying the air and the sun we can't go in. I look up at him, his face didn't get injured, but his neck and other parts did. I don't care, really, I'm just happy he's alive.

"Does it hurt?"

I point to my arms, and he sighs.

"Not so much anymore. It is still quite sore, but I am learning to deal with it."

"You're lucky you got out, you know that?"

"Yes. I am. I was quite worried I would not get out in time."

"I'm glad you did."

"Yes. As am I."

I smile at him, running my fingers through my orange hair.

"Hey! Dez!"

I turn around and see J.T. running towards me. He's not wearing his Power Armor, and he has a dumb smile on his face. Charon steps closer to me, his arm touching mine.

"Hi."

"Anne let you out? That's great! How you feeling?"

"Uhm, okay I guess. I can't run yet or anything, but I'll get there."

"That's good. What you gonna do when you get better?"

"We are taking leave and returning home."

Charon says and I look up at him. He's jealous, and I don't blame him. J.T. looks up at Charon, then back at me.

"Oh, so…you're not going to stay?"

I shake my head back and forth.

"No, we have a home. We have a room at Tenpenny Tower. I can't wait to get back."

"Oh. I see. Well, I'll see you around then."

He leaves and jogs back the way he came. I look up at Charon, who watches him until he turns and vanishes behind the building.

"I do not like him."

"Why?"

"I know the way he looks at you. I do not like it."

His jealousy makes me feel safe.

"It's okay, I don't look at him the same."

"I would hope not."

Charon hasn't kissed my lips since the night we went to the Citadel. I haven't bothered him about it, but really I miss it. I want to…you know…reconcile everything. I guess it's better to wait, though. Wait till we get back home, where no one can bother us or intrude. That may be the best plan.

"Dez I have something I must tell you."

He says and we start walking again.

"What?"

"When I was escaping the Citadel, I saw a glimpse of Sara Lyons and Gunny. I have a suspicion that they did not perish in the explosion."

I stop walking and stare at him. Is he serious?

"What? You…what if they come after me?"

Charon shakes his head at me, but I can tell he's worried. He might not see it, but I'm getting pretty good at reading his small facial ticks.

"I do not feel that they will come looking for you. They would have done so by now."

"But not here. No, you're wrong they wouldn't, Charon. They know I'm here, that I'm safe here. If they tried to get in, they'd be killed. Charon why didn't you tell anyone?"

"It is not a great matter of concern. Gunny and Sara will not come after you."

"They know about the tower, Charon. Gunny knows I have a room there…"

I saw anger flash in his eyes and I bit my lip.

"Yes, I am quite aware of that."

"Charon, they're going to get me."

He sighed and turned around. We started walking back to the entrance, it's pointless to be outside when you can't go in the sun, anyways.

"They are but two people. I will protect you, if they dare try."

"Charon…I'm worried."

"As long as we are here, you are safe."

"What about you? You said…Lyons knows you, Charon. His daughter might, too. Charon this is serious."

"How many times can you say my name in one phrase, Dez?"

I look at him, and give him a slight smirk. I want to punch him in the arm, but I know better than that.

"That's not the point. Come on be serious."

"I am always serious, Dez. I do not think you should worry right now. We need to concentrate on getting back on our feet as soon as possible, so that we may return home."

"I kind of…I can't help but worry, though."

"Try not to. Come. We should eat lunch in the mess hall today and socialize. There are things I must discuss with Henry."

"What kind of things?"

"Private things. I will meet you back in the clinic."

He opens the door for me, and begins to walk down the hall, past the mess hall. To be honest I'm not that hungry. I don't really want anything to eat. I just want to spend all the time in the world with Charon. I appreciate him more now, because of all he's done for me. Whenever he leaves my side, I get anxious, I get worried. It's something new, something I know I've never felt before. I don't like being alone. I know I have all of the Outcasts to keep me company, but it's not what I want. I need to be around Charon. It's the only time I feel I can understand things. Where the world seems clearer, and everything isn't so filled with anger. When he leaves, when I wake up and he's gone into the bathroom, I feel empty, and I cry. He's caught me crying a few times, two really. I told him it was because of a bad dream, but that was a lie. It was because he wasn't there. Something could have happened, he could have gotten hurt or worse. I could have gotten hurt or worse. I can't be alone out here, I don't trust it. This place has taken everything from me. I won't let it take Charon.


	28. A Perfect Warrior

_Thank you everyone for all your nice reviews on all of my stories. I appreciate it and it helps give me motivation to keep it up. I'm thinking about cutting this story short, and incorporating the rest of the events into the last installment, since I somehow have started writing it before even finishing this one o.0. Anyways, if it is cut short, don't worry because it will all be explained. Of course I'll put a note saying it's completed or whatever on the final chapter, but until then, thanks again to everyone who's reviewed and put my stories in their 'favorites' :D. Oh, and one last note...I am going to finish 'But I'd Never Let You Go'. It's not going to be soon, but it will be done in the near future. Thanks everyone!_

* * *

(Charon)

My body screams in agonizing pain. It is wretched, it is destroyed, maimed, scarred. Each time I wake, I am greeted by immense and unbearable pain shooting throughout my entire body. There are days when it aches so badly, I can feel it penetrating my bones, as if someone is carving them up with a rusty knife. I anticipate Anne's arrival each morning, her hands are filled with medicines I need. She injects the enhanced radiation into my veins, and it quiets the pain, but only until the next morning. She injects the 'cure' for my sickness, and it makes it easier to breathe. However, the cure is not yet complete. She claims she is nearly there, on the brink of a breakthrough, but I am not as hopeful as she is.

Each day, it seems, that whatever the 'cure' may be, it works. I feel slightly better than the day before, I can move easier, my bones do not feel so brittle, the pain from the surgery is not as hindering. I am able to look upon my body, when Anne removes the thick gauze bandages. The skin is shriveled, wrinkled as if I have been standing in water for far too long. It is taking, however, I can feel it each morning. When I open my eyes, I feel the skin feels tighter than the night before. It is taking to my body, it is healing just fine.

When I look upon Dez each day, however, I cannot understand how she can still smile at me. She has not seen herself in a mirror. I am unsure of what her reaction will be, when she finally looks at herself. Her body, is littered and covered with pink squares of missing flesh. Matching that with her exposed muscle, she looks like a woman who is going through the ghoulification process. I can rub my hands up and down her arms, and feel the indents and the engravings of the scars against her skin. The feeling is uneven, it sinks in, she looks as if it was her who suffered burns, and not I.

I feel sadness for her, for her scars. She did not have to offer what she did, I would have survived on my own. Due to my leg, however, I am unsure if I would have ever been able to walk. The tissue Anne took from her thigh healed and joined faster with my cells than the skin itself. I was able to stand, carry my own weight, within three days. I do not feel proud, to walk with this limp. I feel weakness, with each step I take. It is a silent reminder of my mishap, my mistake. I do not plan on leaving Fort Independence until I am fully healed. I do not wish to risk the safety of myself or of Dez by leaving here prematurely. I cannot fight, I know this. I cannot fire my gun, the recoil is too powerful for me in this weakened state. I can sense Dez is itching to leave, to return home. I can understand her impatience, but she must also understand what we risk, by leaving here as we are now. I do not have faith in the fact that we would make it the short distance to Tenpenny Tower.

I open the door to Henry's office without knocking. I have matters to discuss with him, matters that I have been thinking and running over in my mind. I have questions, and they will not go unanswered.

"Charon, it is good to see you. What brings you here?"

Henry looks up at me from his desk as I close the door behind me. I stand, my back straight, my weight displaced onto my good leg.

"I wish to ask questions about the events that took place inside the Citadel."

I watch his movements carefully. He takes off his reading glasses, and places a pre-war book down on his desk. His arms fold in front of his chest, and he leans back in his chair.

"What would you like to know?"

There is a dangerous tone present in his voice. I am hoping my suspicions are proven to be false.

"I would like to know what caused the explosion."

Air seeps out of him like he is a deflating balloon. He places his arms behind his head, and puffs out his cheeks. There is something in his mind that he is not going to tell me.

"A bomb, Charon. One of the Knights set it off during our invasion. We were unable to retrieve what we needed whilst inside. There was not enough time."

That was also my speculation, but I am trying to get the full story.

"What became of Rothchild?"

"We suspect he perished in the fire. Charon, there's something I have been meaning to ask you as well. How did you manage to get out of there alive?"

His eyes examine me. I feel as if he sees me as a ghost, as if I was never supposed to get out of there.

"I have a strong will, sir. I pushed my body it it's limits that night."

"Right, I can see that. Does your training have anything to do with that?"

"My training has everything to do with who I am, sir."

"Charon, do you remember how they trained you?"

"Yes. Vividly."

"Then I wish to ask for your help. As you can see, the Capital Wasteland is something in disarray. The people here need a strong army, a strong set of powerful men and women who will guide them and obey their orders without question. Would you please inform me of the methods used upon you so that we may help the people?"

They once told me the same thing where I was raised. They told us we were made for the greater good, that we serve and protect without question because it is for the protection of the people. It was a lie.

"I am sorry, sir, but I would never help anyone with that matter. I do not wish to see an individual be put through the same things I was forced to succumb to."

"But look at what you are, Charon. You are a perfect warrior."

"I was once a tool. A tool used for the greedy hands of those who could obtain my contract. It was not a political thing, sir, it was a profit."

"You no longer obey orders?"

"I am no longer in possession of my contract. I am no longer a simple tool. I am my own man."

"I understand your conviction towards this, Charon, but can't you understand the world needs people like you? In order for everyone to be safe, there needs to be law. We can bring that law back."

"With no offence or insult, sir, I must say that with or without law, the people of the Wasteland will still do as they please. There is no longer any direct threat to America other than the people who reside in it. What you are asking me to do is torture, sir. I will have no part in it."

"I understand, Charon. Is there anything else you wish to ask me?"

"Yes. There is. I would like to inform you that upon my escape of the Citadel, I witnessed Gunny and Sara Lyons fleeing into a Vertibird. I suspected it would be useful to you."

"…It is. Thank you, Charon."

I nod and watch as he relaxes. I take my leave, I do not feel as if I have accomplished anything. My suspicions are still prominent in my mind, yet I will do my best to put them to rest. As of right now, there is nothing I can do about it. Even if I was not in this condition, there would still be no solution. It is something that must come with time, something I must wait and be patient for.

His office door locks behind me, I hear it although I know he is trying to be silent. I am sensing Henry is beginning to see me now as an enemy, competition. His troops with listen to me, perhaps with more respect than they listen to him. I have proven myself to them, proven I am more than worthy to lead them into battle. Henry, however, hardly left the truck when we arrived at the Citadel. He held his position, under the swift guise of 'observing'. I do not believe that. What I believe is that Henry is reaching an age where he knows he cannot lead his troops, and soon, there will be mutiny aboard his ship.

I glance down the hall and see Dez leaning against the wall. She is close to the door of the mess hall, her eyes focused on her feet, deep in thought. Since we have returned here, I have noticed a change in her. Perhaps it could just be my mind playing tricks on me, but I do not know. It seems as if when I am not with her, she gets deeply upset. I have caught her, crying upon her awake, when I am not present. She claims that she has bad dreams, yet when I wake beside her she does not seem to have any of these dreams. I do not mind her attachment, but it worries me as to how this might affect her mentally.

I being to limp towards her, the pain in my body numb for the day. She hears my feet against the concrete, and looks at me. Despite all the disgusting and vile things in this world, despite my new adornment of scars and bandages, Dez is able to look at me with joy and happiness in her eyes. I would not trade that look for everything in the world.

"You done talking?"

Her voice floats up to my ears as she tucks her hair away. The scar on her neck is clearly visible, and our past flashes in my mind. I push it away, telling myself that it no longer matters.

"Yes. Have you eaten?"

"I'm not hungry."

"You should still eat."

She smiles at me, her eyes squinting, she rocks back and forth on her heels.

"Yeah but I don't feel like it. I'm kind of…well I don't want to go back to the clinic."

"You know we must."

"I don't want to be here anymore, Charon. I want to go home now."

I sigh heavily at her. She must understand we cannot.

"Dez, we cannot begin the walk home until I am fully healed. I do not feel that I would be able to protect you to my full potential whilst I am this injured."

"You don't need to protect me, I can protect myself."

"The answer is no."

She pouts, but drops the subject. I am aware she does not yet see just how dangerous the world out there is. Now, with the lack of Brotherhood in the area, I suspect the Super Mutants will soon overrun the city once more. I have changed since the events that took place at the Citadel, as well. I have become more protective of Dez. I do not enjoy people, anyone, getting too close to her. I do not want any harm to come to her. I almost lost her for good, it will not happen again. I have failed her too many times in the past, to let it repeat itself.

"Charon?"

I blink, returning my attention to her.

"Yes? What is it?"

Tears swim in her eyes, and I wonder what it is that she has been thinking about.

"If we can't go home, can we go up to our old room?"

"Yes."

I do not accept her help as we climb the stairs. I am proud, I must do this on my own. I feel that by accepting help from anyone during this recovery will just puncture my pride, my abilities. I have trained too hard, too long, to let myself succumb to the offers of others. I have endured pain and suffering worse than this. There is no reason for my failure.

We arrive at the top of the stairs, and I glace down upon Dez. There is something in her eyes, something I cannot recognize. She leads me to our old room, opening the door for me. I walk inside, and hear her close and lock the door behind her. She, like me, does not like intrusions.

"What is it, Dez?"

I ask as I turn to face her. She runs her hands through her hair, picking it up and letting it fall back around her neck and shoulders. I hear her sigh heavily as she stares at the floor.

"I…just don't…I can't drop what you told me about Gunny."

Gunny, the wretched man. If I even encounter him again, I will not show him the same mercy I have shown him in the past.

"What is it that worries you?"

Her eyes meet mine, and she bites her lip.

"He knows where to find me, Charon. He knows about the tower, he…I just think he's going to get me."

"He will not. When we return to the tower, I will tell Roy to shoot him and Sara upon sight. No one will come within ten yards of you, Dez. There is nothing for you to worry about. I will keep you safe."

"But what if you're not around?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if you, ya know, go somewhere? Like out with Roy, or something…you wouldn't be with me, you wouldn't know. You can't leave me alone, Charon. I'm scared something might happen."

"Dez…"

"Something could happen, too. If Gunny and Sara really survived then they're going to come after me. I killed her father…"

"And the Brotherhood killed yours. An eye for an eye, Dez."

"But doesn't that make the world go blind? How can I enjoy being happy, or enjoy the memories I have while there's a hit out on me?"

"Because you do not need to worry. No harm will come to you. I will not leave your side."

Her movements speak louder than any words. Nervously, she rubs her arms up and down and her weight shifts from one foot to the other. She avoids my gaze and bites her lip. She is scared.

"You don't get it Charon…"

Her eyes fill with tears, and I wonder what could have possibly brought this on. This runs deeper than simply her fears of Gunny and Sara.

"Tell me what is wrong, Dez."

"I just…the Citadel and then you…and it was all bad…and then you almost didn't make it out and then you did but I'm scared."

"What are you scared of?"

"That something might happen to you…"

Quickly, her hand brushes tears from her eyes and flicks them to the ground. She is frightened and worried that I may die out here, and leave her alone.

"Nothing is going to happen to me, Dez."

Her eyes meet mine, and I know my words do not assure her. Reaching towards her, I run my fingers through her hair, a pitiful attempt at comfort. She steps into me, her head positioned on my chest, close to my shoulder.

"It's so scary out there, Charon. I don't…think I'd be able to…do it."

"You do not need to worry. I will not leave you alone out here."

The Brahmin Skin outfits that Anne makes us wear is uncomfortable. I cannot feel Dez's soft skin through it, I cannot feel her arms on my back as I would be able to with my armor. I cannot wait for the day when I am recovered, and I may once return to wearing the leather armor I have become to accustomed to wearing.

Dez pushes her face into my chest, but recedes once she realizes there are bandages present. I wish to tell her it does not hurt, nor does it matter, but I do not. She softly lays her head on me, and I hold her comfortingly.

"I just want to go home. Home is safe."

She says, tired, drained.

"It is safe here, too."

I tell her, assuring her of things we both know are untrue.

"No it's not, Charon. I get this vibe from everyone, I'm scared."

"They will not harm you while I am here."

"How do you know?"

"Henry knows of what I am, he knows of where I came from. He knows of what I am capable of. He will not try anything."

"What about someone else?"

"I doubt they will try."

I sense this all goes back to Dez just feeling lost and lonely. I have not kissed her lips, I am aware of this. I do not wish to just yet. I wish to wait, until we are back home in the safety and silence of our own room, so that if anything may come of that we will not be interrupted. Because of my lack of affection, I feel that she may be worried. When we return to Tenpenny Tower, however, I will put all those worries to rest. For now, I must let them stand. There is little to nothing I can do without harming one or both of us. I know if I even hold her too tightly, she will cringe, still sore from the scars. It is the same with me, as well. Although the radiation does numb the pain I feel each morning, it will not numb the pain given by outside factors.

"I wish we could just leave. Just go and run home."

"As do I, Dez. I do not enjoy being here either."

"I hate Anne."

"Why?"  
"Because she…I don't know. She's always too cheery around you."

"I sense you are getting jealous."

"No. I just…can't explain it. It's like she likes taking care of us."

"Perhaps she has no other company."  
"Yeah. I guess."

I lower my arms from around her shoulders, removing them from her body.

"Come. We must return to the clinic."

I can see that Dez does not want to. I can tell by the look in her eyes she wishes to linger here a bit longer. Yet we must return. I do not wish to risk anything by not showing up where we are expected. Tonight, when the sun is gone and the moon is high, and when everyone is fast asleep in their beds, I will allow Dez to come to my side. She had pushed our beds together after the operation, yet both of us have been too wry to take advantage of that. Neither one of us wishes to discomfort the other, which is understandable. However, Dez is treading on dangerous waters in her mind. I do not wish to repeat any of the events that took place within the first couple of our months of meeting. I can tell she still has that demon, that voice inside her head that tells her to do those terrible things. I must not let it affect her.

I decide tonight, I will reach for her, and allow her to know I am here. I have saved her life many, many times. Most of those incidents were from her own self, her own body and actions. Saving someone's life does not always include weaponry. Once in a while, it involves allowing one to feel safe in your presence, to know that you will not leave them to the horrors of the world. With Dez, it consists of hugging, of holding and softly speaking of other topics. It is hard, for me to have to watch someone I care so deeply for go through such tumultuous emotions, yet I know it is something she must also do on her own. There is only so much I can help her with.

We return to the clinic only to see Anne bustling around inside. She looks at us as we step in, a smile on her face.

"Well how did the walk go? Can you feel everything? Are things working alright?"

"Yes."

I tell her, lightly moving her out of our way. I make my way towards my bed and sit, the mattress shifting under my heavy weight. Dez slowly walks and climbs on her own. She tries to cross her legs, but pain registers on her face and she uncrosses them. Anne turns her back to us, and Dez lifts her eyes to meet mine. She gives me a slight smile, and I nod in acknowledgement.

"I'm glad to hear that. I've figured out a way to help you two along better so that you'll be able to leave here sooner. I know you're itching to go back to…where did you say you lived?"

"We didn't. But yeah, we want to go home."

Dez is becoming smart. She does not inform Anne of our residence at Tenpenny Tower. I do not feel that it is smart or wise to inform anyone of our location, despite their relations to us. There are very few people out here you are able to trust. I can only name two currently, that I feel comfortable sharing details with.

"Right, well, I've figured out a way to stabilize the already enhanced radiation so that I was able to make it stronger without decreasing the effects of the radiation. Here, Dez, tell me how it works."

I eye Anne as she takes a syringe from the countertop behind her and stabilizes it in her hand.

"I would prefer if you first test it on me."

Anne hears my suggestion, my request, and nods slowly.

"Right, that would probably be smart…your more injured than she is."

"Yes."

It is not because of the injuries I have sustained that cause me to have Anne inject me first. It is because I do not want Dez to be the guinea pig for Anne's tests. I do not know what is in that needle, and I also do not trust Anne very much. I allow her to take my arm in her hands, her grip is gentle as she moves her fingers over the areas of bandages. I feel her grip on to my bicep, and I give her a look that Dez cannot see. Anne understands, and her grip loosens, and she places the needle into an area of exposed muscle tissue.

Instantly, I feel the effects. It warms my veins in ways normal radiation does not. It nearly burns, as I feel it travelling throughout my system. I feel the areas beneath the bandages twitch and tingle, the healing effects kicking in.

"How does it feel?"

"Good."

I reply, focusing my gaze in concentration on the floor. My heart speeds up, as if I am feeling a rush of adrenaline. My muscles begin to constrict slightly, moving as if they are repairing themselves. I feel my leg, my wounded leg, burn slightly as the radiation makes its way downward. The soreness from it soon dissipates, and soon it is nothing more than an annoying tickle. It is safe, so far, to use on Dez.

Anne walks away, filling a different needle with the same strange-looking fluid. She begins to walk towards Dez, and Dez looks at me. I nod, telling her that it is alright. Anne takes Dez's arm, and places the fluid into her veins.

"I sure do hope this helps."

Anne speaks, but no one replies. I watch Dez closely, watch as her face changes and pleasure leaks across it. Good. There has been no harm done. Perhaps I am being too paranoid, but I am usually not wrong in my instincts. I have been trained to use my instincts, to trust them and allow them to guide me in all of my endeavors. Just because I am no longer bound by contract, does not mean I will toss away all I have learnt. I am still the same man as I was when they released me from the facility, I have simply grown and enhanced my knowledge of the world since then. Of human nature, of things humans and people call 'emotions'. I am stronger now, wiser. I am still the ultimate killing machine.

Anne bids us goodnight and leaves the small clinic. It seems to be the only room, aside from Henry's office, that has working electricity. Anne leaves the lights on, as if she knows Dez and I will not yet rest.  
"I feel funny."

Dez says, her back to me as she sits on her bed. I raise my eyebrow, concerned.

"What form of 'funny'?"

"I don't know. Like the feeling you get from the radiation only stronger."

"I feel the same. It is simply the enhancements."  
"I want to run miles, though."

"I do not think you are able to just yet."

Dez slides herself off of her bed and walks around the room. She bends her knees, and performs a short series of stretches. When she is finished, she nods to herself and her eyes lock with mine.

"Try to walk."

She tells me, and I listen. Carefully, I slide myself from my own bed and stand. I walk towards her, I am not limping.

"Charon, look, you're getting better."

Dez points to my leg, and I nod knowingly.

"Yes."

"We can leave sooner."

"Perhaps."

I see a flash of excitement in Dez's eyes. She walks over to me, her hands begin to tug at my Brahmin Skin shirt.

"Take it off, I need to see something."

"What is it?"

Her eyes are set and focused.

"My father was a doctor, a scientist, right?"

"Yes."

"Then that means…I'm smart, too. Here, just trust me."

I trust her. If she by small chance, remembers something, then I do not wish to hinder her progress by declining her request. Carefully, I pull the shirt from my torso, and expose my body and bandages to Dez. There is hardly a piece of me, that is not wrapped in bandages, that is not hurt or healing. Dez examines the bandages carefully, feeling them gently with her hands.

"You do trust me, don't you?"

"Yes."

She nods, and slowly begins to take off my bandages. She begins with my torso, and pulls the pieces gently, stopping only to grab a pair of surgical scissors to cut the tape that holds them on. When she finishes with chest, she moves to my neck, my arms, my legs. I have to slide off my pants to help her, but I am not bothered by it. I trust Dez with a scalpel more than I trust Anne with a pair of tweezers.

Dez piles the bandages in a corner, and walks over to the counter. She picks up the jar of fluid that Anne filled the needles with, and brings it to the floor beside where I stand.

"Charon, we can leave…"

She mutters, as she unscrews the lid. I look down upon myself, looking at the pieces of flesh that are taking well to my body. They seem better, healthier, than they did this morning.

"Here."

Dez begins to rub the fluid onto my body as if it is a special lotion. I feel it affecting my areas, I feel it tickling and warming, the sensations making my body jump and jolt. I do not look down, I remain perfectly still. I see a satisfied smirk upon Dez's face, as she crouches down and begins to rub my severely wounded leg. There is no longer bone exposed, but still it is not healed. Dez rubs it gently, applying more and more of the fluid until the jar is nearly empty. My body feels as if I am standing in the middle of a fire, but the fire does not burn me. Rather, it warms me, it raises my body temperature, keeping me warm. I feel healthier, stronger, better by the second with the substance sinking into my skin. I look down at my body, down at it all. The flesh takes, it is safe t touch, to tug and pull at. My arms are as healed as they ever will be, and I look at Dez.

"It is working."

She smiles as she wipes the remnants of the goo onto herself. I know what is soon coming, and I am wry.

"We can leave now, Charon. You can walk now, we can _do_ it."

I sigh heavily. Leaving in the cover of the night would be the safest thing to do, but I am still unsure. Even with my body healing, it does not mean I will be able, strong enough, to properly protect and defend her. I glance down and see she is playing with her Pip-Boy. She has not yet figured out how to work it as smoothly as she once did.

"Look, home is here, and we're here. We can do it, we can make it there _really_ fast."

She shoves the map in my face, and I examine it. Dez is right. We are dangerously close to home. Too close, perhaps. If we are spotted leaving here, under the safe cover of night, there would be nothing stopping someone from following us. It is too short of a distance to lose said follower in the desert. It is a risk, a very high risk.

"Dez perhaps we could leave at a later date? There are still many factors we must take into consideration."

Her eyes falter as she brings her Pip-Boy back towards her. I do not feel ready. I do not yet feel at my full potential, despite Dez's efforts. Yes, my leg is healed, but that is all. I may not need bandages anymore, but the time it has taken to properly heal has had some toll on my body. I have not shot my gun in nearly a week, I am unsure if I am stable enough to withstand its powerful recoil.

"Charon I just want to go home. Can't you just take me home? Please?"

She pleads with me, using soft words to line the mischievous undertone of her voice. I would not, cannot, forgive myself if anything were to happen to her. I am unsure if the skin taking to my body is strong enough to take the strain I may have to put it under. Perhaps if we walk swiftly enough, we will be able to make it home with little or no interference. I am unsure as I look at Dez, look at her watery, pleading eyes. She bites her lip, sniffing her nose.

"Hand me my armor."

I request of her. She nearly screams with uncontained joy, yet stifles her own voice. I watch her carefully, as she ventures to my new armor, and picks it up in her hands. She has trouble lifting it, but I do not offer to help her. It amuses me slightly, watching her struggle with the metal plates and collapsing fabric. Dez gives up midway through, and begins to simply drag it towards me, dropping her grip at my feet.

"Come _on_ Charon hurry!"

She is like a small child, bouncing around the clinic as I dress. This new armor fits just as well as my old one, without the wear and tear. Dez finds her old Raider armor and slides into it, her back to me. The scar she received whilst in The Pitt mocks me. It reminds me of a time when I could not be there for her, protect her, keep her from harms way. That will not happen again. I will venture with her despite what others may say or do.

I slide my arm through the one sleeve, and slip the fingerless gloves onto my hand. I feel like myself. I feel as I did before this wretched accident. Dez walks over to me, my shotgun in her hands. Her orange and brown hair is scattered across her face, and her eyes hide pleasure and excitement. She pushes the shotgun towards my face, smiling brightly, smiling broadly. I take it from her, feeling the familiar curves of my old gun. It has been many days too long.

"Can we go?"

I glance down at her. She holds her pack on her back, her sawed-off shotgun in her hands. I nod.

"Yes, but only if you remain as silent as possible."

"Can do. Come on."

I lead her to the door, and open it quietly. Scanning the dark halls, I sense we are alone, I trust my instincts. Dez follows me swiftly, silently, to the stairs. We venture down them with ease that was not present earlier in the day. I keep my finger on the trigger of my gun, ready to shoot anyone who stands in our way. The Outcasts may have helped us, but I do not trust them. The Citadel incident seems unreasonable to me. I did not expect an active bomb to be at the ready, and I do not think it was Elder Lyons who built it.

As I open the front door, Dez dashes out without warning. She moves past me, running blindly into the desert. I resist the urge to call her name as I follow her, her outline lit only by the moon's silvery beams of light. She runs, and I follow, until we are a safe distance from the fort. Only then does she stop, breathless, and looks back at me.

"We did it."

She says softly, as if she can be heard by nearby enemies.

"Do _not_ run away like that on me again."

I tell her, angry with her actions. She sees the anger upon my usually expressionless face, and pouts.

"I just want to get home, I didn't want to stay there anymore."

"I understand that but you must be wry of the dangers out here. You know this, I should not have to tell you. Come."

Without further word or argument, Dez takes pace behind me. I hear the quickness of her small feet trying to keep up with my long strides. My eyes scan the area around us, Tenpenny Tower looming lit in the distance.

"That's home, Charon."

"Yes."

I slow my pace so that she may walk beside me. Carefully, we venture down a steep hill, rocks fall beside us. Dez giggles once in a while, when she slides further than she had initially intended. I do not see the humor in any of this. When Anne wakes in the morning, she will know. The empty jar Dez left, will tell her of what we have done. I am itching with anticipation, wondering what it is the Outcasts may do. They are not nearly as technologically advanced, nor as well-trained, as the Brotherhood of Steel, but they are still dangerous. They outnumber us two to ten. They have Power Armor, and well-maintained weapons. Dez hardly wears clothes, and my own armor can not hold up against the bullets they spray.

"What's wrong?"

I catch Dez's eye at the bottom of the slope. She stands with her arms crossed, gun dangling from the tips of her fingers.

"I do not feel good about our choice. I feel we should have waited."

"But we're _home_. There's nothing to worry about now, right?"

For her sake, I lie.

"Yes. Perhaps you are right."

Unexpectedly, she hugs me. She takes my body in her frail arms and squeezes my torso lightly. I am caught off guard by this, and jump slightly. Dez is not moved or hinged by this, she simply rubs her face into my chest, smiling.

"I never have to worry, because you keep me safe."

I do not reply. I keep her as safe as I can, but it does not mean she can prance around this world as if she is invincible. She must still be on guard, careful, cautious and knowledgeable of her surroundings. For now, however, I do not inform her of this. I allow her a solitary moment of peace in her mind, allow her to feel safe. I do not return her embrace, I stand tall, scanning the area.

"Come, we must get inside."

I remove her arms from me. She lets go, but does not move. Rather, she stares at me in wonder, in thought. I walk past her, leading her to the tower.

"You know, Charon, I'm not gonna stop following you now."

"You never have, Dez."

"No, no you've followed me, right?"

"That can stand to be argued. Are you coming?"

I hear her feet as she runs to catch up to my side.

"Until you love me. I'm going to follow you."

I look down upon her head, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Why?"

She shrugs, biting her cheeks and looking around the area. The closer we get to the tower, the safer we are. I do not inform her that I already love her. I do not feel comfortable saying it just yet. Admitting out loud to her, such a powerful and constricting emotion, is still quite difficult for me. I wish I did not ever have to tell her, that she would assume I do and leave it all at that. However I know Dez. The person she once was is very similar to the person she is now. Her insecurities shine through, she is a woman who needs constant attention and reminders of feelings felt towards her. However, I am not yet ready to admit those feelings. If she by chance asks, then I will reply truthfully.

"We're home, Charon."

She says with displaced wonder in her voice. The gate to Tenpenny Tower opens for us, and we walk through. She looks around the courtyard in amazement and wonder, as if she has never seen it before. I do not say anything as I open the doors to the brightly lit lobby. Bessie Lynn spies us first, and dashes towards Dez, embracing her in a loving hug.

"You came back!"

Bessie Lynn exclaims as they dance around squealing like pre-pubescent teenagers. It sickens me slightly, but I hide my discontent.

"Of course we did!"

"Oh Roy is going to want to talk with you, Charon."

"I suspected as much."

I reply offhandedly. I hand Dez the key to our apartment as I make my way to the elevator.

"I will see you inside. I must seek out Roy."

"Okay."

I walk away from the two women as they giggle and catch up for lost time. They act as if it has been years since they last encountered one another, rather than weeks. I enter the elevator, and as I press the button, I take one last look at Dez. Her eyes are fixated on me, the poster child for lost children. Her look saddens me for some reason, and soon the doors close her out. The elevator jerks uncomfortably, as it begins its climb to the penthouse suites. This is one of the few rare places I feel even remotely safe.

Yet I do not feel entirely secure. Roy is a strange man, a vindictive man. I know if someone possesses something he desires, he will stop at nothing to obtain it. Often, I worry if he will venture and attack Dez and I. With his words and persuasion, it would not be difficult for him to convince the residents here to turn against me. I am hoping my reputation and his respect for me hold out long enough for him to hold off an attack.

The elevator doors open and I step out, walking towards Roy's suite. I know he can be no other place. His view of the desert is perfect for spotting trespassers, even in the night. Without knocking, I open his apartment door and step in. I am greeted by a cool breeze, and it tells me he is out on his balcony.

"Roy?"

I call, making my way towards the balcony doors.

"I saw you coming."

He says, not looking at me as I step outside beside him. He lights a cigarette, and passes it to me whilst lighting another.

"I thought you had."

"You returned with _her_."

He is displeased with Dez's presence here. I do not care.

"I would not have returned without."

"She is a threat to us, Charon. Or am I still not allowed to address you by name?"

"She remembers, Roy, it is fine."

"About time."

"I came to discuss something of importance with you."

Roy snickers at my statement. I can smell the liquor on his breath.

"Oh? What may that be?"

"Shoot to kill, Roy. Anyone clad in Power Armor, anyone unknown by you or me, kill them."

"Why should I listen to you?"

"Because the people here will all die if you do not."

"What have you fuckin' brought back here, Charon? You bringing trouble again? I won't go easy on intruders."

"I did not ask you to. I simply told you shoot to kill. That is my request."

"Very well. I still don't like that smoothskin being here, despite what she is to you."

"You will have to deal, Roy. I will not throw her out into the Capital Wasteland. You need me here, as well, for protection."

"A last resort."

"A deadly resort."

Roy snickers and smoke files from his mouth.

"Cocky bastard. Well, it is good to have you back. Been different, without your lumbering bones around here."

"Hm."

"So, you say she remembers you?"

"Yes."

"You know, Charon, there's been something I've been thinking about. Something I've been _dying_ to ask you since you brought the bitch here."

Anger rises in me as I hear Roy address Dez as 'the bitch'. However, I push it aside, leave it for another encounter.

"What is that?"

"Well, she's a different person than she was back then. Even though she remembers, you think she still loves you the same? Or is she pretending to save her own ass?"

"Dez has nothing to gain by pretending, Roy."

"Of course she does. She gets a trained killer, she gets a home, she gets someone to do her dirty work at the snap of her fingers. Many women out here would fake it, just to make it."

"I disagree."

"I thought you would. I don't trust her, Charon. She hasn't proven to me that she is a…_safe_ thing to be around. Trouble follows her, I do not want trouble here."

"You will not have it here. I would assume her actions whilst acquiring this place would have proven her intentions to you."

Roy tosses his cigarette over the balcony, and I do the same. He folds his arms in front of his chest, sighing heavily.

"I put up with her because I respect you."

"You do not have to like her."

"And I don't. Is that all you want to say?"

I nod, and turn away from him.

"Yes. I will be returning to my apartment now."

"It's good to have you back, Charon. This place needs more protection."

"Whatever you say, Roy."

I say nothing more as I leave Roy's presence. I am aware that he does not like Dez. I have always been aware of that. However, it seems in my absence here, his dislike towards her has grown. I am sure he would change his judgment had I told him of the events that took place at the Citadel. Yet I felt at the time it was too much for our first night here. I do not wish to spend all my time talking with Roy on his bitter balcony. I wish to return to my own room, my own bed, to my own woman.

I open the door to my apartment. It is unlocked, the door, showing me that Dez has already returned. Yet there is no light. She has not turned them on, and I suspect she does not want them on. I do not reach for the switch as I put my things down beside an old bookshelf. I notice the balcony door is open, giving the room a cool air. Slowly, I walk to the door, seeing Dez's small frame against the banister that keeps her from falling.

"I get to sleep in my own bed tonight."

She says as I step outside.

"Yes."

"You'll sleep with me, won't you?"

"Yes."

"I missed this view. I like it."

"It is something, yes."

Dez turns her head to me in the moonlight. She plays with her hair, staring up at me in soft wonder. I do not advance towards her, although I am now allowed, boundaries mean nothing. Rather, I stay where I am, waiting to hear her next words.

"We can stay here forever, if we want."

"Perhaps, yes."

"Charon, how old are you?"

"Over two-hundred years. You know this."

"You don't look two-hundred."

"I was not, when I became a ghoul. I suspect I would look as I once did if I ever revert back into a person."

"Is that possible?"

"No."

She sighs. I am not well with annunciating sarcasm.

"It's cold out."

"Perhaps you should come inside and close the door then?"

She shakes her head, her hands playing with small strands of hair on either side of her neck. The moon shines behind her, illuminating her frame, her curves and figure nearly perfectly. In the moonlight, I cannot distinguish her skin from her scars. I can only see what counts, what it is I wish to see.

"I'm nervous."

"Why?"

What would possibly make her nervous?

"Because…I know…what's going to happen. I know…that we're gonna…ya know…and I don't know…how to react to it."

"I do not wish for you to feel pressured, Dez. If you feel uncomfortable with any given circumstances just inform me and I will fix it."

"No, no it's not that. It's just…you're a ghoul."

"Yes, I am."

"Well…do you _work _the same as humans? Like…is it _there_?"

She looks down at the space between my legs nervously, and looks away once again.

"Yes. We work the same as humans yet we are sterile. There is no chance of reproduction."  
"But Gob reproduced."

"I am unsure of how that happened, honestly. I presume Gob is the one rare percent chance ghouls have at survival."

"Oh…"

She looks at the floor, the concrete, I sense her uneasiness.  
"Dez, I am not lustful. I do not expect it of you."

"I want to, though. I'm just scared. With Gunny…"

Gunny. She reminds me of the time I caught them together. I cannot hold it against her, as much as I hate the memory. She was not herself.

"Go on."

I tell her, trying to hide my discomfort. I want her to share things with me, rather than hide them and feel uneasy.

"…Gunny was easy. It was kind of like doing it with a dog, I guess. I just laid there, it wasn't fun. But then I remember the night we did, and it's different. So that's why I'm scared. Because it was different and I haven't done it with you yet, since…my head. And I'm just scared it'll hurt or something, because I can't remember when we did do it."

"Oh."

What does she wish me to say? I am not a man of many words, nor of sympathetic insecurities. I do not know what to make of her statement, I do not know what I am able to assure her of.

"What did you feel, when we did it?"

Her question is not one I had expected to hear. I have no preregistered answer.

"I felt…many things."

"Like what?"

"Pleasure, lust. I felt…conviction towards you. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace, ecstasy, perhaps as well."

"You don't seem like the type to feel ecstasy."

"I thought that as well. I did not show it to you, but inside I felt it. At least, it is what I feel 'ecstasy' is."

"What about me?"

"You remember, don't you?"

"Yeah…I just don't trust my head is all."

"Trust it, Dez. It will not lie."

She nods slightly, releasing the strands of hair she has clenched in her fingers so tightly. Her vulnerability entices me. I have an unbearable urge to comfort her, and set her fears aside, yet I am unsure how to. Mustering my courage, I step towards her. She looks up at me, and smiles softly.

"You're the only good thing I have left, you know."

Her words stop me in my tracks. No one has ever once called me 'good'. Perhaps vile, evil, or ruthless, but never good. Hearing the word and my name associated with it drip from her lips only reinforces my feelings towards her.

"Sometimes…sometimes I think about dying. I think about how much easier everything would be for everyone if I just…_died_. But then…then I think about you. And I think about all you've done for me, and I think that if I did that, it would be a waste. Because you've done so much to keep me here, and I don't want that to be all for nothing."

"It has not been for nothing."

"I know, I'm just saying…it's hard sometimes."

"I can understand that."

A wind picks up, blowing her hair lightly. She smiles at me as she rubs her arms for warmth.

"Come, come inside. It is going to be a cold night."

"I want to stay here. I like it outside. It's beautiful. Stay with me?"

"Yes."

She turns away, smiling, her back soon faces me. Without hesitation, I reach and grab her hips, her waist, and wrap my arms around her. She does not show signs of discomfort, but rather embraces the grip I have on her. Dez allows me to place my body close to hers, and hold her tightly. Her head leans back, resting on my chest as she stares out into the vast desert.

"Everybody's free out here, Charon. There's no rules, no law, no anything."

"That is true."

Her hands find mine and she clutches them tightly.

"But you…you make people listen. You make them not hurt me, and if they do, you hurt them. That's a form of law."

"Possibly."

"You…you're just here, helping me out whenever you can…"

"I always have been."

I close my eyes, feeling the touch of Dez's hands on my own. It warms my cold and old bones.

"You're not going to leave me, are you?"

"Not unless you wish me to."

"No, no I don't."

That response pleases me. I enjoy hearing she wants me around, it reminds me of why I burned my contract so long ago.

"Charon?"

"Yes?"

"I would have died, if you weren't with me."

"Perhaps."

"No, no I would have."

She sniffs her nose, signaling to me that she is crying.

"Do not cry, Dez."

"I'm not."

She lies, I find it slightly humorous. I allow myself to remember the way she felt, the night she kissed me in Underworld after the heated argument about Greta. I am pleased she does not remember that incident, the one with Greta. It has saved me much explaining that I do not wish to do.

"You're my own personal hero, Charon."

"If you see it that way."

The wind blows, and Dez backs into me. Her entire body is pressed against mine, and she releases her grip on my hands. Rather, she moves her own hands up my forearms, stroking them gently.

"I'll repay you one day, for all the times you've saved me."

"You do not have to. I do not expect repayment."

Her scent invades my senses, driving them wild. I feel her chest rise and fall with each breath she takes, and I relish in the feel of it all. It has been far too long, since I have been able to feel her this close, this intimate. I will follow her, until she loves me as well.


	29. Memories of Yesterday

Feeling his body so close makes me feel so many different things. I'm scared, nervous, but at the same time I know it's the safest place for me to be. No one in the world can hurt me when he's this close. His leather is rough against my skin, but I don't care. I don't want him to step away, I don't want him to leave me alone. I can't bear to be without him around me, because I'm so scared something might happen. Even if he's just going to talk to Roy, like he did earlier, I was so scared that something might happen. I rushed up here as fast as I could so I could wait for him.

I turn myself around while his hands stay on my hips. Looking up into his milky white eyes, I'm faced with a lot of emotions. All of them are so new to me, but some of them feel old, like I've felt them before. I know I have. I've looked into his eyes before, stood close to him before, felt this before. But now, it's new to me. I've never felt like this for anyone since I woke up. I never knew it was even possible. He doesn't have any emotions expressed on his face, I'll have to get use to that. His expressionless expression. Charon. He stares down at me, but he's soft. He's gentle. I don't think he'd ever hurt me, I know he won't. Everyone else is fair game, though.

"Is it all gonna be okay?"

I ask him, my hands rubbing his shoulders.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know…I mean…am _I_ going to be okay? What about everyone else?"

"I do not know, Dez. I cannot read the future."

I wish he could, though. I really do. In this world where everyone's free, I still feel like I'm breaking some rule. Some unwritten rule everyone has out here, that I'm not supposed to be with him. That it's wrong and unjust. I don't care, though. No one knows Charon like I've come to know him. They have no idea what he'd do for me, what he has done for me, and what that means to me.

Standing on my tip-toes, I hesitate letting him kiss me. It's not that I don't want to, it's just I'm nervous. He hasn't kissed me since the Citadel, and I'm scared he might not want to. But those fears are put to rest when I feel his rough, ghoul lips against mine. It's not a hard kiss, or a gentle one. It's in the middle, one of those innocent ones two nervous people give to one another when they don't know what else to do. It makes my heart beat faster, it makes me want more of him, only him, just him.

I feel him lift me into the air, and step forward. He places me on the banister of the balcony, his hands set securely around me so I don't fall. It doesn't soothe my nerves, though, and I pull away from him.

"Charon I might fall."

"Just hold onto me. You will not."

I smile, and listen to his suggestion as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. I wonder if he loves me. I wonder if he'll ever say it to me, if he even can feel love. I don't know much about ghouls, I don't know much about his upbringing, what he has told me is vague. But I know that I still love him. That nothing has changed on my end. That he still means the world to me and more.

I close my eyes tightly, feeling his lips travel from mine to the side of my neck. He's soft, he's slow, he's trying to make me feel comfortable. It's not him, it's just I'm scared of the act itself. But, he's slowly making me feel okay with it all. He places small, soft, kisses up and down my neck. His breath is hot, and it makes me shudder. I tighten my grip on him as he stands between my thighs. I don't want to fall, I don't want to let him go.

"Charon…"

I say by mistake. He doesn't stop kissing me right away, he leaves a few more along my neck, and pulls away, staring at me.

"Am I making you feel uncomfortable?"

He asks, concerned.

"No, it's just cold."

I don't let him go, for fear of falling, fear of him leaving. He sighs a bit, but instead of coming back and kissing me again, he lifts me into the air and sets me down on the balcony.

"Come."

I follow him inside, he closes the door behind me. I look at him, I didn't turn the lights on when I came in. I wanted it to be dark, I like the dark. Even though it's scary, I feel comfortable in it. Because then if I can't see what's in the dark, I don't have to be scared of it. I can see Charon's outline as he walks over to an old bookshelf. I hear him yawn slightly, and I'm tired too, I realize.

Slipping off my armor, I toss it to the floor beside my bed and crawl in. My own bed. My own warm, soft, safe bed. Charon comes and joins me a few short minutes later, I hear him, see him, settling down beside me.

"Can you be the big spoon?"

I ask him, and I catch his milky eyes staring at me.

"The what?"

"The big spoon."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

I smile at him. Gunny told me about that, the big spoon and the little spoon. I like being the little spoon, because nothing can hurt me. But…Charon I guess doesn't know what any of that is.

"Never mind."

I say, because I don't want to make him do something he doesn't want to. Laying down, I feel for him, and find his arm. Gently, I tug at the tee shirt he has on. He rolls over to face me, and I fit myself in his arms. I don't have to worry about hurting him anymore, because we're almost all better. It's good, too, because I don't want to feel alone in this big bed. Even though it's home, it's still new to me.

"Charon?"

I hear myself whisper.

"Yes?"

"What do you think of me now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I was different back then. You thought differently about me. What about now?"

"There is no difference, Dez. You are still the same in my eyes."

"Oh."

I feel his arms wrap tightly around my back, and he pulls me close, almost on top of him. In my head, I play a slow tune. It's soft, fitting the mood I'm in, fitting how Charon's looking at me. I can read a lot, read what he doesn't show on his face, in his eyes. It makes all discomfort go away. It makes all the nervous feelings vanish, because I can tell he really cares about me. That I'm something special to him.

Leaning down, I kiss him. He kisses me back, I don't think I could ever tire of this. His arms tightly around me, his lips rubbing against mine. Through a small window, a tiny beam of light shines in. I feel his hands travel up my bare back, and under the small tank top. His hands stroke my scars, my skin, gently, as he pulls me down closer. I wrap my arms around him, holding on for dear life almost.

You know, I never thought sex would feel this way. I always figured it would be like it was with Gunny. Just him grunting and not really giving me any pleasure with the uncomfortable thrust every now and again. But with Charon, it isn't like that. It's different, completely so. Wherever his hands or lips kiss, it burn with a tickle, a sensation I've felt before, but still so new and fresh. He's gentle, not animalistic like Gunny was. He's soft, and his hands travel up and down my sides like he's exploring my body for the first time.

He doesn't grunt or groan like Gunny, he just breathes heavy, kissing every inch of my body that can be kissed. It's not awkward, or uncomfortable, he's not making a sport of finding my scars and tracing them. Rather, his hand just find every nook and cranny with such a sweet, soothing feeling. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. When he tugs at my shorts, I don't hesitate to relax my muscles and let him slide them off. With Gunny there was a lot of hesitation, a lot of fear and unwanted anticipation. I didn't really want to have sex with Gunny, but I want to have sex with Charon.

He stops kissing me, stops touching me, and pulls away from me. In the dark, I watch quietly as he fumbles with the belts around his waist. I feel my face blush, and I'm glad it's dark. I don't want him to think…well anything bad. I have to stifle a giggle when he finally gets his leather pants off, because he just looks so clumsy. I bet I look worse, though. At least he has clothes on, though. I'm stark naked for the world to see. I hope the world doesn't see, though. If it wasn't for all these stupid scars, I'd consider myself pretty damn good looking. But, having your skin carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey really isn't something to be admired.

Charon pulls off his black shirt with more ease than he did his pants. I look at him, look at the ripples in his muscles, the veins that show, the new skin. Reaching out, I touch his chest, feeling what a ghoul feels like. He feels familiar, rough, solid. His muscles don't let up, they aren't soft on his chest like they are on his arms. I look at his hands and notice he's clenching his fists.

"What's wrong?"

Did I do something? Does he not like being touched?

"It is nothing."

I jerk my hand away and pull the blanket up over me. I did something, didn't I?

"It's me isn't it? I'm sorry I just didn't know. I won't do it again."

"It is not you, Dez. Do not be worried."

"Then what is it?"

Until he can give me a reason, it's me. I hold the blanket up to my neck, now I'm nervous. I'm insecure.

"Relax, Dez. I was simply unsure of how you would react to my body."

"I've seen you…sort of naked before. In the clinic."

"Yes but you did not touch me."

"So it's not me?"

"No."  
"Sure?"

"Dez…"

He reaches towards me and pulls the blanket down. My face burns red, because I'm embarrassed, because I don't want him to think anything bad about me. I want him to like me, love me, as I am without any expectations or strings. He puts his hand on the back of my neck, his fingers playing with my hair. I stare at him, his face, or lack thereof. I can't help but smile out of nerves, and he pulls me close to kiss me. Slowly, my fright and embarrassment drifts away, just like it did before. I feel the bed shift under me as he crawls towards me. Am I supposed to lay down? I guess, because when I do, it makes everything that much better.

Charon balances on his elbows, kissing me, playing with my hair, feeling the curves of my body. I'm nervous, so I lie still, only wrapping my arms around him. I don't know what to do, what to expect. Will it feel the same as it did with Gunny? Uncomfortable, sort of painful, rough? I don't know, just thinking about it makes me shudder. Not in a good way, either. I'm nervous, I don't want to be nervous.

I feel Charon's knees pressing lightly on mine. Slowly, very, very slowly, because I'm so damn scared, I open my legs. He pulls away from me, looking at my face.

"Why are you shaking?"

I am? I didn't even notice. Now that he mentions it, I feel my thighs and my arms are shaking quite a bit.

"I-I'm nervous."

"We do not have to do this."

"N-no I want to…just scared."

"I do not feel comfortable doing this with you if you are so scared."

"I'll always be scared. You just have to do it I guess…"

I bite my lip and look at him nervously. He kisses the scar above my right eye, then kisses my forehead. I guess in retrospect, I shouldn't be scared of anything. It's not like he's Gunny, and only doing this for the sake of himself. Even if it feels the same as it did before, with Gunny, at least this time I know the man cares about me. I know he's not doing this because he wants to, despite my own feelings towards the matter. Still, I'm scared of it.

Charon tried to calm my shakes. He kissed me really softly, trying to soothe whatever thoughts of bad I was thinking. It worked, but it didn't stop them. I still shook, scared. I remember being with him before, feeling insane amounts of lust and pleasure and every decent and good emotion there ever is imaginable. But it's been a long time since then. I only have Gunny to go by, and that wasn't a very good experience. I'm just worried it'll hurt, worried it won't be the same as it is in my memory. I feel my back stiffen as Charon positions himself over me. He looks at me, and I blush. I rub his cheek, I don't know why but I do. I guess I just want to see how it all feels, remember.

A part of me does remember. I part of me remembers the last night something like this happened. It comforts me, and I relax my legs, my back, and lie back on the soft pillow. Charon knows, I think he can tell in my eyes or something. He leans down and gives me a kiss filled with held-back passion, I've never felt anything like it before. It's amazing, it makes me shudder, makes me lose all sense of myself and wrap my arms tightly around him. In the middle of him kissing me, I feel him jerk, and then…I can't describe it.

It's nothing like Gunny. It puts every other feeling of pleasure to shame. My senses go crazy with all the sensations, with feeling his body against mine, his lips, his breath and his hips. It's like I've been sleeping and someone just poured ice water on me to wake me up. Only, the ice water didn't scare me, instead it made me feel…amazing. Charon kisses me, stifling whatever soft moans may have been able to escape my lips. He goes slow, gentle, trying to make me comfortable while supporting his own weight so he doesn't crush me. I feel him pull away from me, and I open my eyes. He balances on the palms of his hands, all movement ceased. I breathe heavy, feeling a warm sweat all over my body. Meekly, I smile up at him. I think he smiles back, but I'm not sure.

"Hey."

He says, and I smile wider. Sitting up, I wrap my arms around him, kissing him all over again. I guess he figured he was making me uncomfortable. No, not anymore anyways. He puts his hands on my back, and we reposition ourselves. It's not easy, it's actually quite humorous, with our awkward elbows and body parts, not being able to really see one another in the dark. Somehow, we manage, I don't know how.

He cradles me close while I'm on his lap. For the first time I feel taller than him, his legs holding me higher than him. He kisses me, and it's like everything starts all over again. I feel the rush of pleasure, the sensations attacking me everywhere, the back and forth movements of our hips is almost sultry, almost comforting enough to ease me to sleep. His hands pull through my hair, combing it in his own special way almost. He kisses down my neck, down my collarbone, and I can't help but let out a small moan. Not because I want to, but because my body wants to.

Somehow, I found something out here. I found something that…that most people can't even dream about. I've found a person, a friend, a partner, who'll stick by me and help out no matter what. In this world, that's shown me nothing but pain, turmoil, struggles and hardships, I found a silver lining to it all. Something that makes it all worthwhile, that makes the loss and the tears and the struggles all worth it. If I can come home to this every night, this feeling, this pleasure and waves of emotion, then I can endure anything.

If Charon kisses me every morning, and does this with me every night, I'll have no reason to be fearful again. Because I'll know when the sun sets, I get to feel things that most people…well they'd never feel this way even for a million caps. I can't describe it, it's like butterflies in my stomach having a party. It's a dizzy, lightheaded feeling you get from standing up too fast. The feeling you get when your heart beats so fast, time seems to slow down and all you can think, feel, and breathe is the person in front of you.

Gripping his shoulders tightly, I feel everything all at once. I feel my muscles tense, my nails dig into his skin. He holds me tighter, his hands on my back as he rests his head on my chest. I've never felt this before. It feels like I have, but like with everything else, it's so new. It comes at me like a wall of water, everything goes downhill, but in a good way. Charon clings to me, and I cling to him. I see his head moving slightly with my racing heart, feel beads of sweat forming on my hairline. He closes his eyes, slowly letting me out of his grip. I don't move from on top of him just yet. He's still holding me, his hands on my hips. He kisses the place between my breasts, letting his lips linger there for a few seconds too long. But I don't mind. Not one bit. Not one iota.

I stroke the back of his head with my hand. I've never felt so many amazing things at once, never knew the act of sex could…could make those feelings come out. It's hard to explain, you'd have to do it yourself to even get an idea of what I'm feeling. The balcony door blows open in a harsh wind, but neither one of us move. The cool breeze is welcomed, it feels nice against my sweaty skin. Charon sighs, and gently, we slide apart.

"Are you okay?"

He asks, concerned, soft.

"Yeah..."

He kisses my forehead and goes to close the door again. I didn't want him to get up, but it's okay because I know he's coming right back. And he does. He comes right back into bed, and smothers me with kisses over my face while pulling my naked body into his. He's the big spoon, and he doesn't even know it. I rest my head on his shoulder, as he lays on his side. I toy with his hands, a smile across my face.

"Can we do this every night?"

"If you wish. Perhaps."

I smiled at him, playing with his fingers, his hands. He watches me really close, I don't know why, but I don't mind it.

"Will you tell me how I used to be? Before I hit my head? Before I got hurt?"

My curiosity has been rising up in me. Ever since we got to Fort Independence, I've been feeling different. Like when I would train, I would feel just…stronger, tougher, not just physically but personality, too. It's like I'm not who I am, but I'm still familiar. I'm not sure how that works, but in my head it makes sense. Maybe it's something old, something a part of me. The underlying bitchiness I've been trying so hard to hide.

"You were…angry. I once described you as a 'sad, lonely little girl who did not know of her place'. At the time, I felt it was quite befitting to the tantrum you were throwing."

"Was I mean?"

"Brutally so. Yet it fit you at the time. Your personality was one many people either admired or feared."

"What…what did you do? Fear or admire it?"

Charon takes my hands in his and puts them down. His eyes are filmy, reminding me he's just a heartbeat away from being a corpse.

"Perhaps a bit of both. We did not see eye-to-eye on many things, often fought, yet I found myself strangely…attracted to you. I wanted to know you, analyze you and learn what it was that created who you were."

"I sound like a bitter and complicated person."

"You were, yes, but it is what made so many people know your name."

As bitter and miserable as I sounded, I kind of liked it. I liked hearing I was mean, maybe back then people didn't take advantage of me, treat me like they do now.

"I wish I could remember."

"Perhaps one day you will."

I smiled up at him. He doesn't smile back, and you know what? I suspect he's hiding something from me. I think behind that expressionless face is a lot I don't know, a lot he's not telling me. For now, that's okay. I know enough about myself. I know enough to keep me going. Closing my eyes, I rolled on my side and wrapped Charon's arms around me.

"You're not allowed to leave me, Charon."

"I never have."

"What's one thing you like about me now? That I didn't have back then."

"Perhaps your willingness to admit your dependency on me. In the past, you did not admit it much, I enjoy hearing it now."

"That's a good thing, right?"

"It depends on how you look at it."

I think it's a bad thing. If I wasn't so dependant on him in the past, then I shouldn't be now. If I was okay back then, without him, why do I need him now? I'm not complaining, just having a bit of an identity crisis. I'd like to remember who I used to be, good or bad. I want to know who I was.

"You are Pluto, Dez."

Pluto…and he's…Charon.

"We've had this conversation before, haven't we?"

"Yes, something similar of sorts."

"I remember it."

I remember asking him about ancient civilizations, about the meaning of his name. He told me that I was one of 'many' Pluto-type people, and he is Charon, the moon that always follows, serves and protects. I don't like to think of him as serving. Protecting, yes, serving, no. He doesn't serve me, I don't ask him to do anything.

"Are you sleeping?"

I say in the dark. Charon sighs loudly, I feel his hot breath on the back of my neck.

"I am trying to, yes."

"Oh. Sorry."

I sit still, silent, waiting patiently until I hear Charon's breath slow and deepen. I don't move, or even twitch, I just lie there, pretending I'm staring into a fire. Why a fire? I don't know. My heart is pounding in my chest. I can't tell you why, but it is. I feel different, I feel funny. His arms slowly go limp around me, falling off of my shoulders, telling me he's asleep.

Naked, slow, I slide from him. I slide off of the bed, and let my bare feet touch the old rug beneath them. It feels soft, rough on my heels. I wiggle my toes, closing my eyes. So familiar, this feeling. Standing from the bed, I look around. There's nothing in this room, it's as bare as a newborn baby's bottom. It's empty, vast, there's no light. Charon snores quietly, peacefully. My orange hair frames my bare neck, I can feel it. It makes goose bumps down my back, over the scars that wrap all around my body. Aside from my face, I'm all sorts of messed up. I don't think that matters out here, though. For some reason, since the Citadel, maybe before then, I've been feeling something. Something I can't describe, something I can't place.

As quiet as I can be, I walk over to the balcony door, and open it. The cold night wind catches me off guard. Damn, maybe I should have thrown on a shirt, or some underwear. No, no I feel right when I'm naked. I feel free, new in this body, as if I haven't had it before. Stepping out, the moon lights up everything in the distance. It silhouettes the desert, and I raise a hand to block it from my eyes. This moon, I've slept under it countless times before. I've been alone under it, alone in the dark, before Charon. Yes, I'm sure I was.

I can't tell you what drives me. I can't tell you where these thoughts and motions come from, but I know they're a part of me. I can tell, by looking up at the moon, I've been under it so many times before. The wind picks up again, and it blows my hair around my face. My Pip-Boy goes into my peripheral vision, I know where I got it from. My father's friend, in the vault, when I was ten. I know, because it's in my dreams. My mind is dormant when I sleep, it's the only time it's well enough, free enough, to show me what I can't see when I'm awake. To show, tell, me things that others may not have, things others may not have known.

There's a man, his name is Butch. He smells like hair grease, and burnt leather. There are times when I love him almost, lust for him, and times when I hate him. Times when I want nothing more than to rip his throat out fueled by an anger that I have no clue about. I don't understand just yet, I don't try to. I figure my mind has shown me so much so far, it will show me more. I just have to wait, be patient, and I know soon this will all make sense. For now…for now I want to act on it. I want to act on what I feel. Because that feels natural to me. It feels natural to let my words come with no thought or remorse. To let myself walk onto the balcony naked, without a second thought.

There are two sets of men in my dreams. They are both dressed in black, but one of the men has glowing green eyes. I don't know where the green-eyed man comes from, but I know the other one. There's a white symbol on his armor, it's not as heavy or as powerful as the green-eyed man's armor. I hate the white-symbol man. When I look at him, whoever he is, hurt, anguish, pain comes and I want to chase him down. The scars, welts, on my body that Charon admitted to doing burn. They burn so bad I wake up sometimes. But the anger, the _rage_ towards the man, it doesn't go away. It stays, strong, present even when I pry my eyes open.

I see Gob in my dreams. I see him smiling at me, see him behind a bar in a place filled with smoke and the smell of sex. He's miserable, I can feel it, and I want to help him. But no matter how miserable he is, he smiles at me. Gob has always smiled at me, hasn't he? He was…the first nice person I met in this world. The sun, I remember, was so bright. It blurred, I wanted to cry, I was dirty, wet with sweat, exhausted and weak. But Gob, Gob was kind. He gave me drink and food, he gave me words of kindness, and sent me in the right direction, the right path.

People, faces, places, it gets blurry after that. But I remember scenery. I remember emotions, feelings I've had. I remember staring at this moon, this very same moon, on a cold night just like this one. Wrapping my hands around the thick railing of the balcony, I peer up at it. I'm standing on a cliff, an immense wave of sadness and darkness engulfed me. My heart beat so fast, like an adrenaline rush I couldn't control. I stared into the eyes of Charon, angry, alone. I told him…I said…I can't remember. But…I remember turning, and stepping off of that cliff. I remember Charon grabbing my wrist, catching me. But…there was something to that. Something different. He didn't save my life because he wanted to…there's something else. It was because he _had_ to. It made me so angry with him.

The feeling of war, of gunfire, of…_everything_. It gets my blood boiling. It mesmerizes me on a level I never knew existed. There's adrenaline, and a sick sense of pleasure. I can remember taking out Raiders, with Charon at my back, a maniacal grin on my face. I can't remember where exactly we fought these Raiders, but I remember the feeling of such intense pleasure it nearly matched that of sex. I can only imagine, only feel, what type of person I once was, but I figure she wasn't bad. She was badass. She was something to be feared, admired. Something, someone, who somehow got into a heap of shit, and came out cleaner than Abraxo. She came out with Charon, with the world at her back and on her shoulders. She came out…as Dezbe.

Pulling myself up, I stand on the thin rail, my balance expert. My naked body is exposed for all those to see, but I don't care. Ask me, I don't. I stare at the moon, hands on my hips, wind blistering my skin from the cold. And I feel…_right_. I let the maniacal grin creep across my face, I let it stretch and form, I let it emerge, as if it's been years, and it's an old friend. _Welcome back, Dez_. The voice says in my head. I run my hands over my body, feeling each individual scar. Each one burns when I touch it, metaphorically speaking. It burns with a memory, a fiery intensity that tells me there's so much I need to learn, so much I don't know, but so much I would love to do again.

The moon is big. It's perfectly round, silver, and there's black clouds floating around in the midnight-blue sky. Twinkling starts glitter over everything, poking through the wispy clouds. I smirk at it, letting a small chuckle escape my lips. The very lips that have kissed Charon endless times before, the lips that have placed themselves upon a bottle of beer, lips that have spat words of venom and hatred at things. My lips. They're mine, no one else's. I was not born in the Citadel, I was not born in the vault. To be fair, to be honest, I have no rotten fuckin' clue where I was born, but that will be discovered in time, too. I remember my mother, clearly, crystal, for some reason, and my father. I mostly resemble my father, but I think I have my mother's eyes. I can't remember.

There's so much I know, and more than I don't. I know it's true, because it's a feeling you get on the inside. A feeling in your bones and in the pit of your stomach. One that only happens when you've been somewhere before, done something before. I remember Charon standing over me, pressing something into the side of my neck. It hurt, the room was white, I didn't cry but I begged him to stop. It makes me sad inside, but not a crying sad. The kind of sad that makes you want to act out in a fit of rage. You can imagine it, it's easy, try it.

I sway with the wind on the railing, my toes acting as fingers. I don't wonder where I adapted my nimble balance from, anyone living out here would adapt, or die. I must have learnt my lessons fast, and learnt them well. The feel of my small shotgun in my hand makes me aroused. Not in a sexual way, but in a…in a thrilling sort of way. One that makes me want to use it, makes me want to shoot people. There's no law out here, everybody's free. Free to do as they want, as they please, as they so desire. I know now, what I want to do.

"Charon!"

I scream, my voice echoing and carrying out through the desert. It travels far, travels long, and I know anyone walking in a certain radius heard me. They'll look up, and wonder who screamed. I'll call to them, tell them it's me, and I'm back. For the most part, anyways. I'm back, and I've got a shitload of revenge to seek. I've got a lot of pent-up rage to set upon this world. I've got a lot of memories and images that need sorting out, and a lot of fucking ammunition.

"Dez what are you doing up there?"

I hear Charon exclaim, and I smirk once more. The noise of him zippering his pants reminds me of a metal door, a thin one. I don't know why, but I remember standing on one side of that door, feeling very shy. Turning around nimbly, I stay on the rail, Charon watched me real cautious like. He sees the smirk upon my face, and hell I swear he smirked back. I don't ever think I've seen him smile.

"Don't you ever smile?"

I slide down and lay on the rail, the cold making me numb, making my mind block it out. Charon watches me, I like the attention.

"You are naked."

"Yeah no shit. Tell me have you always been this damn obvious or was it a learned trait?"

His eyes light up like…like the lights in my memory. The lights that stream across an unknown metal place. He doesn't smile, but I'll be damned if he don't want to.

"Dez…"

"So you gonna just stand there or are you gonna give me a smoke?"

He seems less worried about me laying on the rail. I lifted my hand to take the cigarette he offered, and moved my fingers a bit.

"I played piano and I was better at it than you."

"If you would like to believe that."

Turning my head, I looked at him upside-down. Putting my cigarette between my lips, I inhaled the sweet nicotine and caressed my chest without a second thought. Hell I mean nothing sexual by it, it's just a curious factor.

"No, I was _better_ than you. I played it. We have shit to do in the morning."

"What?"

Rolling off the rail, I let my feet hit the concrete. Swaying my hips, naked in the moonlight, damn there was never anything sexier. Now if I can only find that goddamn shotgun…

"I have shit to take care of in the morning. Megaton. At least, I _think_ it's Megaton. Big metal city, right?"

Charon nods and I inhale another drag of my smoke. Nodding back, I narrow my brows in concentration. Those pricks. The man, Lucas, Simms, whatever, he lied to me. He lied to me now, he lied to me then. He can't be forgiven. He banished me from my home, a home I feel I've rightfully earned. Gob…Gob was there, too. I met Gob there, but I don't remember anyone else. I guess no one made an impact on me. Screw them. From what my head tells me, from what the feelings feel like, I hate them all.

"I have business. I can't quite remember, but I hate them."

"Dez, you are naked."

"Yeah, I know, you've told me."

"I am just stating the obvious."

Blinking slowly, I threw my cigarette over the rail, and towards the ground below.

"You…I have a bone to pick with you."

I said, pointing a crooked finger at him.

"What is that?"

"You disobeyed. I told you…to…you didn't…"

Running my fingers through my hair, I paced back and forth, trying to remember. I can see the barrel of Charon's shotgun at my face, with Charon at the other end, but I can't remember much else. I can feel the cold barrel in my hands, rage, sadness inside. I feel my lips moving, but the words aren't coming out.

"What?"

He repeats and I look at him. He knows, he's playing coy games. I remember liking these games. Smirking that infamous smirk I know and am just learning, I look at him.

"Oh, forget it."

"No, tell me."

I walk past him. Since when do I feel so…_powerful_? So cocky and so damn _right_? Now, I guess. Since I've let my defenses down and let the storm come back in. This room, my room, is bare and I want it messy. Next time we leave I'll take a bigger pack and leave room to gather little trinkets to make it more to my fitting. Charon walks behind me, I hear him close the door.

"So, this is what it feels like…"

"What?"

He's more confused than I was when I woke up after taking a bullet to the brain. Good. I like these mind games.

"I need to clean my gun."

"It is fine."

"No, I need a new gun."

"Excuse me?"

I wave my hand at him. Tomorrow, I will fix it all. Tomorrow, I will make it all work, remember it all, I know I will. Well, maybe not remember it all, but remember how much fun I had with that gun in my hand.

"We have to go to Megaton and then we have to go…go West."

"West?"

I nod, walking towards the bed. Sitting on the edge of it I flop my back down, and let the blankets spray around me.

"Yeah, West."

"What is West?"

"I just want to go West."

It's my life, and I'll do what I want. No rules, no regulations, no parents, just pure unhindered freedom. God knows why I want to go West, but something tells me to. My head tells me to, and from now on, I'll be listening to that head.  
"I have missed you, Dez."

"Oh yeah?"

"It is hard, finding someone of equal insanity to me."

"We're not insane, Charon. We're fucking _crazy_."

I laugh, but he's not amused.

"Aw, you're a sourpuss, Charon."

I hear his footsteps, the rhythm, he walks over to the bed, crawling in on the other side. I look at him, seeing strands of my hair. There's something about him that frustrates me. I know he knows shit, shit he's not telling me, shit he's never told me.

"I am tired."

"Yeah well, I'm not."

"Learn to be."

"Make me."

We stare at one another, and I sit up. His eyes are white and filmy, like a glow-in-the-dark something. I like it. I remember how he would look at me, his eyes contrasting to the darkness.

"I suggest you rest. Tomorrow, if you still wish, we can travel to Megaton."

"I have to shoot Simms, Lucas, the dude."

"Yes. I wish to, as well."

He catches my eye, and we share a knowing look. Oh, Charon, you agree. How sweet. How moronically, and sickeningly, sweet. _You're back, Dezbe. For the most part, anyways. You're a mere shadow of what you used to be, but this will have to do for now_. The voice in the back of my head scares me. I don't know where it comes from, who it is, or why it's there. It doesn't make me feel like my old self, it makes me feel weak, useless, sad. Blinking, I feel a battle going on in my body.

I don't know what's going on inside, actually. I don't know what part of me is real, what part of me is influenced by the recent events, and what parts actually matter. Who I am now, is fighting with who I guess I used to be. I mean, it's hard to describe. Blinking and staring at the ceiling, I sigh. I don't let Charon know because he seems to think I've just reverted back to something I once was. But on the inside, it's different. Just a few seconds ago I was comfortable, me, naked me. Now…now I don't know.

I want to be my old self, but who I've been since waking up is fighting it. Closing my eyes tight, I swallow really hard, and suppress the strange feelings. I make them go away, and before I open my eyes, I pick which ones I want to feel. I want to feel like my old self. I want to be the Dezbe I once was. Screw this fearful and meek persona I've had, I want to be _me_ again. I want Charon to look at me, and actually see me. I can't remember much, but it's enough. It's enough for me to know what is right in my head, and what isn't. I can't quite explain it, but…I know it.


	30. Do It For Me Now

"Perhaps you should get dressed."

I glance up at Charon, holding a lit cigarette between my lips. The first thing I did this morning when I rolled out of that comfy bed of mine was grab my sawed-off shotgun and start messing with it. I've been sitting bare-assed on the floor ever since, and hell I don't give two shits. It's my stupid room, I'll sit bare-assed wherever the hell I want.

"Why? We won't have company."  
"You do not know that."

I shrug and go back to working on my gun. Charon followed my lead this morning and stated fixing his up, too. I want to try and shoot his gun. It looks strong, powerful…I like it. I bet you ten bucks the damn ghoul won't let me touch it, though. Have I ever shot it before? Fuck, I can't remember. What I _can_ remember, though, is shaping me. It's like one day you wake up and feel like changing your room around for no good reason. That's kind of how my head is functioning, has been functioning, since last night. It's my room, and it's changing. The pieces are fitting together, but not very well. I have images and sounds now. I remember what my father sounded like, I remember the animosity I held against him for so long, and the regret that came with it after he died.

Flicking ash off the tip of my cigarette, I sigh. A part of me wants to ask Charon for help with all the images and sounds that don't match up to anything, that feel incomplete, but the other half resists. I want to know, but I want to know on my own at the same time. I guess it's a trait I had in the past. I feel sad, too. Like there's this big, black cloud following me. The sadness itself hasn't affected me, but I know it has, and I know it probably will again. Right now, it's just making its presence known. Like cancer. It's there, it's not going to hurt you, until it starts to grow. Then it's all downhill from there, I guess.

Explaining what exactly is going on in my head is difficult. I can't find the right words or analogies to express it. Last night I had this really messed up dream, too. I dreamt I was in a room of mirrors, but each reflection of me was different. I started getting scared, because I lost track of myself, and couldn't figure out what was my real self. This time, Charon didn't come and chase it all away. I was on my own, and ended up shattering each and every mirror, until my hands bled. That's how I woke up. That's the last thing I remember from my dream, are my hands bleeding, and the pain I felt from it.

Not sure what all that means, but it confuses me. I want to ask Charon, but again, there's a part of me that kind of wants to keep to myself. That…doesn't want help from anyone, not even him.

"What is on your mind?"

I hear him say. I blink and shit, I've been staring at my gun for the past few minutes. No wonder he asked. I was staring off into space.

"Uh, nothing. Dazed off."

"I suggest you dress in case we have a visitor."

"Are you expecting someone or something? You're really up my ass about this."

"No, Dez I am not. However the last thing I wish is for someone to walk in and see you naked."

"It's my room, I'll do what I want."

Charon sighed and he went back to messing with his gun. Serves him right for trying to tell me what to do. I have enough on my mind, without having to hear him nag. A warm breeze floats in from the open balcony door, and I close my eyes for a minute. Since I woke up, I've been thinking about so much. Mostly, about my dad. I remember his voice, and it excites me. Not in a sexual way, but in an emotional way. When I hear it in my head, I kind of think he's right next to me. I know he's dead, but…I miss him. As angry as I was at him, as much as I hated him, he's my dad. I'll never see him again.

"Charon, Dez?"

A loud knock on the door. Great. Just fucking great. Charon looks at me as he crosses the room to open the door. I get up and find my Raider Badlands Armor. Quicker than he can open the door to see who it is, I have it on.

"Yes?"

I hear him ask, and I shake my head. Always so goddamn proper.

"You two need to gather your things and come down to the lobby."

I don't recognize the ghoul's voice, but I figure it's a tenant. Charon closes the door and looks at me. I cock an eyebrow and stub my smoke out in the ashtray next to my bed.

"Well, you heard him, I guess."

I say and start packing up my sack. I wonder what the hell is in the lobby. Probably some people got inside and they need our help. Can't imagine what it is though. And to be fair, I don't really _want_ to help anyone. From what I can piece and remember, I can feel slight hate towards the people of the Capital Wasteland. Not sure why, exactly, but I do. In time, I'm sure my memories will become clear, and I'll know the answers to all my questions.

Charon and I march out of our room. We wait patiently for the elevator, and when it arrives, we step in.

"I am concerned about you, Dez."

Charon says, staring at the door.

"Yeah? Why?"

"It worries me, how suddenly you have changed."

"I'm fine."

I lie. I just don't need the stress of him nagging me. I'm not sure what I feel, really. I feel angry, I feel sad, I feel a lot of emotions that I don't want to. But I also feel strong. I feel strong because I know I can survive whatever it thrown in my direction. Because I know Charon is with me, and he'll do whatever it is I need. Alone, though, I'm not so sure.

He leads the way out when the doors open, and I pause for a second to watch him. His back is smooth with the leather armor over him. He's tall, his muscles well-hidden beneath his clothing. He walks with an air of 'I will kill you if you look at me the wrong way'. And…he's all mine. If looks could kill, Charon would have wiped out this entire place by now. It makes me feel…feel like starting a gunfight, and having sex with him right in the middle of it.

"Dez! Charon!"

I step out of the elevator just as the doors close. I hear my name, and look around the lobby. Gob…it's Gob. He's bleeding, and I feel so _angry_. Who hurt him? There's panic in his wide, wild eyes. His shirt is stained with dried blood, and it infuriates me. Gob is the _only_ thing besides Charon I care about. Whoever did this, will pay, and pay with their life.

"Gob! What happened? Tell me right _now_."  
I demand as he stands between me and Charon. People in the lobby stop and stare, but we ignore them. My attention is all on Gob, on the tears and panic in his eyes, on the blood that coats him.

"They-they-they _took_ him!"

He stammers, his hands shaking. Charon remains expressionless as he stares down at Gob, but I let my emotions fuel me, and I grab my gun in my hand.

"Who took who? Gob you're not making sense."

I say, and Gob sucks in a deep breath of air. He sits on the floor, crossing his legs and I glance up at Charon. I can see in his eyes he's worried.

"The…the Brotherhood. Underworld…it's _gone_."

"What?"

Oh, _now_ Charon speaks.

"It's _gone_. Two of them. They came in, they came and _destroyed_ it. I…I escaped…Nova…the _killed_ her…I…I tried to save them, I tried but they came and killed almost _everyone_. It was horrible…horrible…they took Zack, Charon."

Zack. Gob's baby. His baby.

"Who? Who were they?"

I demand, grabbing his shoulders and staring into his eyes. Tears fall from Gob's eyes, and he sniffs his nose. I hug him, hold him as tightly as I can. He sobs for a few minutes on my shoulder. Shit.

"A blonde woman…and a man…they came and took Zack…"

"Sarah Lyons and Gunny."

Charon says, crossing his arms. I nod, and lean away from Gob. He wipes his face with the back of his hand and stares down at the floor.

"The woman let me free…she told me to tell you…they'll be at Old Olney. I…I came here…Dez…Charon…"

Gob stared up at us, his mouth open, his words not making it through. I understand. I nod, and cross my arms.

"Stay in our apartment. Stay here, where it's safe. I'll get him back, Gob, or I swear to god I will kill everyone in my way trying."

Gob is speechless. I don't want to wait around, I don't want there to be room for argument. I want to go, leave, and fucking _kill_ them once and for all. Underworld…gone…I've never been there. Well, not that I can remember. I'm sure I've been there before, but, I can't remember it. Nova…Gob's wife…or whatever. Shit he lost his family. His only family. As we leave, I look up at Charon. Anger flushes over his face, and I know, I know Sara and Gunny just opened and started one huge motherfucking shitstorm.

"This is a trap."

Charon says as we leave the tower grounds. I look up Old Olney on my Pip-Boy map. We have one long hike ahead of us.

"It is. But we have to do it."

"Yes. I agree."

"Underworld…I can't believe it."  
"This is personal for me, as well."

"Why?"

"I helped create Underworld. It was meant to be safe. Not destroyed."

I nod and turn off my Pip-Boy. I'm more angry about the fact that they hurt Gob. The only ghoul, person, being, to ever mean something to me. They knew that, too. They knew it all along, and this is one big plot to get me to go to them. Well it's working, but it isn't going to work in their favor.

Anger seems to come easy for me, as we walk silently across the decrepit desert. I've never seen that baby, but I can imagine how scared he must be. Taken from his mother and father, taken by strangers. My insides burn, when I think of that kid crying. I don't think I'd care if it was anyone else's, but it's _Gob's_. Looking around the desert, at the sky, the sun, the dirt beneath my feet, I realize something. I am everything this world won't be. I am the one person who will stand up to the Brotherhood of Steel, who can shoot anything, who can sacrifice and take at the same time. I am a contradiction, I am vicious. I am angry.

Whatever I was before, whoever I was, I'm not that person anymore. I'm different, enhanced. I'm meaner, nicer, manipulative, scary. _You are trying too hard, Dezbe. Just let it come from within…_ Within what? My body? Fuck my body. Fuck my scarred and twisted body. I'll do it my own way, I'll do whatever I want. This world, has no rules. I can kill, or be killed. I'm going to kill. They took Zack, they hurt Gob, that…that's fucked up. You do _not_ take someone's child while killing their wife. Even in my book, that's fucked up.

"Charon?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to kill them."

"Yes. As am I."

There's no salvation out here. There's no safe place to stay, no safe place to hide. There is no heaven. I hear Charon cocking his shotgun in the back of my mind, and a smirk crosses my face.

"Raiders."

He says, and we look at one another. I pull out my own sawed-off shotgun, and cock it.

"I got your back."

I nod, and charge forward. The sound of the gun, the feel of the recoil, the sight of blood spraying into the air, it makes me feel _alive_. It reminds me of a time when Charon and I first began fighting together. I feel his back press up against mine as he fires at the second Raider. Oh lord, there ain't no heaven. There ain't nothing but death, destruction, chaos and the smooth, smooth feel of a gun in your hand. The cries of the near-dead Raider in front of me makes me feel real, as if I am here, am alive for the first time in my life.

I walk up to him, and shoot him point-blank in the face. His head explodes and it doesn't bother me. Charon's shadow blocks out the sun as he holsters his weapon.

"They didn't stand a chance."

I tell him, putting my own weapon back. I feel bad for the fools who cross us. No one, no one stands a chance against Charon and I. With all this anger, with this new mission we've found ourselves on, there is no such thing as 'mercy'.

"No. They did not."

"Come on, I want to get as far as I can by night."

"Very well."

We walk together, under the blazing sun. We don't speak, as the sun beats down on whatever skin we have exposed. My scars burn, telling me they're getting a bad sunburn, but I ignore it. I don't want to stop. I don't want to take the chance of losing more time. I want to get to Old Olney, get to Zack, and kill Gunny and Sara. Kill them both, for what they've done. Glancing up at Charon, I view him differently. He's a killer, a mercenary, and so am I. I don't have the same set of skills as he does, but I'm just as deadly. Okay maybe not, that's kind of pushing it, but hell I'm dangerous.

"I do not like it when you stare."

"Sorry."

I mutter and look away.

"It is fine."

"What's eating you?"

Charon sighs and turns his head.

"Many things, Dez."

"We have all the time in the world. Let's hear it."

He hesitates before answering me, but I wait patiently.

"I am concerned about you. I am concerned that dangerous things will return to you. I am also worried as to what we are walking into. It is a trap, as we are both aware, but I am unsure of what kind of trap it is."

"What things?"

"Dangerous things, Dez. You were never mentally stable, and I do not suspect now will be any different."

"It don't take much to realize I'm fucking crazy, Charon."  
"No, it does not. Yet the sudden adjustment in your attitude does worry me some. I am concerned greatly, for your sake."

"I'll be fine."

"Hm."

Lighting a cigarette, I jam a hand in my pocket, and glare up at him.

"You said once that you didn't like me, and I remember you had ample opportunities to kill me. But you didn't."

"No. I did not."

"Why?"

"Because, Dez, I did not wish to."

"Yeah, you should have."

Charon doesn't say anything, but his jaw muscles clench. He turns his head from my gaze, and I know what the deal is. Hell I just won't say it is all. Closing my eyes as I walked, I tried to remember. I tried to remember best but it didn't work. It caused my head to ache, punishing me for pushing the limits. I guess me knowing what I do know is good enough. Not for me. I want to know it _all_. I want to know the good, the bad, the horrible and the great. If there is a great. Something tells me that I haven't had much fun in my life. But I know the fun I have had is…is something. Fuck.

Pressing my fingers against my temples, I stop walking and grit my teeth.

"Dez?"

"Arg…"

I groan. Clenching my eyes closed, I fall to my knees, cradling my head.

"What's wrong? Dez?"

There's a familiar concern in Charon's voice. He's not formal anymore, there's something different about him, something changed. I can't focus on that right now. All I can focus on is the searing pain in my head. It doesn't stop, usually it does but not this time. This time it goes and goes, until…until…fuck.


	31. Please Don't Leave Me

(Charon)

I carry Dez's lifeless body in my arms as I walk across the desert. Blood seeps from her nose, trickling down the sides of her cheeks. Her chest moving up and down slightly give me sign that she is alive, and that is my main concern. Her body is much lighter than I remember it to be, easier to hold as I walk, easier to bear her weight.

I am concerned about her, worried. She has undergone significant changes since yesterday, and I am worried as to what this may mean. I am aware that it is not good for her mental stability, but I am also worried as to what this may mean for the people of the Wasteland. Dez is not the safest person in the world, she will turn her back on you if it is beneficial and you hold no emotional meaning to her. She has shown me that is still true, with her easy take on abandoning the Outcasts.

I glance down at her as I hear her groan. She does not move her body, but her lips move as if she is speaking to someone. I lean in closer, trying to hear her words.

"No, Butch…not tonight…"

Memories. She dreams in memories. I shake my head as I shuffle her weight in my arms. We are on our way to Old Olney, to confront Sara Lyons and Gunny. It is a trap more than Dez will understand. Self-sacrifice, I feel. Yet I understand her debt and conviction towards Gob. I, as well, wish to help him at the risk of my own life. Zack is a child born of pure chance and miracle. Perhaps he holds the key to medical advancement for ghouls. However, without a doctor to study him, I fear his genetics will go to waste.

I do not know the amount of devastation Underworld has undergone. I must return there, I must see it for myself. I have been thinking, since Gob came to the tower, of my duties and my purpose in life. I am meant to be in Underworld. The place I helped create, the place I spent so many years in, the place in which hold so many memories. I feel I must return there, protect it, as my sole duty on this world. Yet what about Dez?

I stare down at her body as the sun begins to set over the horizon. There is no doubt in my mind that I love her, but one must understand the bigger picture. The remaining people in Underworld need me. I have been taught to always think of the greater good. Roy Phillips and his band of Feral Ghouls cannot protect them as I can, nor would he want to. His place is protecting Tenpenny Tower. My place…I feel my place is back in Underworld, protecting the citizens that still live there, that have survived. Dez…does not have the same purpose.

It will take some time before I am ready to tell her of my plan, and even more time for her to come to terms with it. Of course I will be excited, happy, if she agrees to stand by me in Underworld, yet I understand that is not plausible. She is not one to be tied down. The thrill of a fight, the feel of a gun, is what makes her, her. I am older than she is, by many hundred years, I have had my fill of battles and war. I no longer wish to be known as a killing machine. I wish now, to have a purpose in life, a place to call my own.

The room I have at Tenpenny Tower is not my own. As luxurious as it may be, it is not where I belong. I am under the watchful eye of Roy Phillips and that dirty woman Bessie Lynn. It is not a place I feel entirely safe in, nor do I feel at home. Always, I feel I am being watched, witnessed, observed. I have spent enough time being observed and watched. Now, I feel, I must break from that cycle and start the last part of my life new.

Setting Dez down gently in the sand, I look around at the desert. Twilight sets in, and I have found a safe spot for camp. Perhaps tonight, I will introduce her to the idea of relocating to Underworld. If, that is, she wakes. Only if her mental stability permits, I do not wish to upset her. Quietly, slowly, I begin to gather things to build a fire with. My hands work meticulously, as they have seen this form of work many times before in the past. I grow tired of it. I am aware now, that this life is no longer for me.

"Ugh…"

I hear Dez beginning to come-to as I get a spark that soon ignites the branches and bramble, turning into a well-formed fire. Glancing over at her, I see her sit up, and wipe the now-dried blood from her face.

"What…shit…it happened again…"

I nod, although it is a rhetorical question. She sits herself up against a rock, holding her head in her hands, moving from side to side slightly.

"So many pictures in my head…"

"Can you make sense of them?"

"Ugh…some…shut up."

I roll my eyes but listen. She groans for a few more moments, before picking her head up and digging for a cigarette in her pocket.

"Are you well?"

Dez lights her cigarette and looks at me through the flames. There is a glint in her eyes that I have not seen in a long time.

"For the most part. My head is sore…in the morning…I'll make sense of it…I have _got_ to stop doing that. It can't be healthy."

"I agree."

"There's a lot of things I do that aren't healthy, though."

I watch her eyes as they wander over the exposed scares on her body. Those large, pink squares, are my doing. I wish she did not do that for me, but I appreciate her for it. I wish there had been another way.

"Dez? I need to talk with you about something."

Her head snaps up, as if she knows already. She runs her fingers through her hair, nervously looking me up and down. To make the moment more intimate, less on guard, I begin to remove the top half of my armor. Dez sees this, and I notice her body relaxing a bit. I slide the armor from my shoulders, and place it beside me, along with my gun. I sit before her in just my black shirt, pants and boots, it is the most informal I have been out in the desert. Aside from the time she ordered me to 'skinny dip' with her. I do not let my guard down in public easily, but tonight, it is necessary.

"What…is it?"

Her voice is filled with caution, the smooth, syrupy syllables ring in my ear, but I do not let it distract me.

"While you have been comatose, I have been thinking."

"About?"

"About what I shall do after we finish up our business at Old Olney."

Dez bites her lips. Her eyes flash with memories. I know this because she stares away, off in a trance, for a swift moment. I sense a change in her personality, as she returns her eyes to mine.

"Yeah? What's that?"

"I have been thinking of returning to Underworld."

"For what? It's destroyed."

I shake my head. Denial is common.

"No, it is not. Gob did not mention that _everyone_ had perished. If they have, however, I will return to Tenpenny Tower. Yet I feel I should return to what may remain of Underworld and offer my services to the people."

"You mean like a guard dog? Like you're going to live there and scare everyone of?"

"Yes, but in different terms."

She pushes her legs out in front of her, the heels of her boots dangerously close to the fire.

"What about me?"

"You can stay with me, if you wish."

Her hair drifts with her head as she shakes it from side to side. Even with her current state of mind, she is still the same 'can't-stay-in-one-place' person. I was foolish to believe she would be.

"No. I have to _do_ stuff…I can't just stay in Underworld…"

"Then you do not have to."  
"So…that's it? That's what you wanted to talk to me about? Leaving?"

She stands, and I look up at her.

"I did not mean it to come out like that, Dez."

"Yeah? Then how did you mean it? You're just going to…to _leave_, just like that? What about me? What am I going to do?"

"Whatever it is you wish to do."

She paces and I stand.

"You can't just leave me like that."

"I am not 'leaving' you, Dez. I simply feel that my abilities would be best-suited to the protection of Underworld."

"No, your abilities are best suited to protect _me_."

"I have protected you, Dez. I have devoted endless amounts of time and energy on you."

"And now you're bored, huh? You're just like everyone else…except you fuck me."

"What?"

She throws her cigarette into the flames. I am floored at her words, but I should have expected as much. Along with her changes, I have sensed her old personality has worked it's way into her mind and system.

"I _remember_! I know! I know my dad left me! My mother! I know! You…you're not any different. Not any different from…from anyone out here."

"I am not abandoning you, Dez."

"Yes you are! You are!"

Her foot slams against the dirt, and I quickly look around for signs of threats. There are none, and I return my attention to her. There are no tears in her eyes, but I can see she is fighting them. Perhaps if I were able to speak more elaborately, she would understand.

"No, I am not. I am simply returning to Underworld."

"Without me!"

"You may come."  
"No! I have things to do here! I can't stay in…in wherever the hell that shit-hole is!"

"Then it is you who is abandoning me, Dez."

I do not mean to hurt her, but I can no longer hold back what I have been thinking.

"No. No, Charon. You're leaving me, just like everyone else in this fucked up world has."

"I am not changing my mind."

"You're pathetic. If I remember right…you…you were held by a piece of paper. A fucking piece of paper, and _I_ freed you from it."

"In a sense, yes."

"You _owe_ me."

"I am sure my actions leading up to right now has repaid whatever debt I have."

"You _lied_! You said you loved me!"

I blink slowly at her, thinking of the past. Shaking my head, I keep my cool composure. If I lose my temper now, this conversation will reach nowhere.

"I have never once said that I loved you, Dez."

I have not. I have thought it, but I have never had the courage or felt the right moment to say it. It does not mean I do not, but before I can tell her this, she makes up her mind.

"…Then I don't give a shit what you do anymore, Charon."

"Dez, that came out wrong."

"Whatever. Go back to Underworld. Go there, save your people. I don't care."

When Dez decides that a conversation is over, then it is so. She cannot be reasoned with or argued out of whatever her mind has chosen for her. I watch her closely, as she sinks into the sand, staring into the flames. Unintentionally, I have pushed her away. I did not mean to, that was not my intention. Keeping her close has been the one thing of importance in my life. Knowing that I have now pushed her away hurts me inside.

I do not let her see this, however, as I sit down across from her. She curls her knees to her chin, and stares into the dancing flames.

"Dez?"

"Shut up, Charon."

"Dez, I think that you have misunderstood what I was trying to tell you."

"No. I understand. Go. I'll do…whatever it is I have to do."

"Will you return to Underworld once you finish your tasks?"

I ask this because I want Dez in my life. I want her in my future, be it fighting 'bad guys', fighting the 'good fight' or simply enjoying the night sky as we take a break from the noise and smell of Underworld. I want her in my life, because she has been the only one to give it meaning. I love her, but I know I do not have to constantly be with her. Her and I have different paths, are at different times in our lives. I can only hope she returns to me.

"…Probably not. I bet by then, I'll either be dead or have found something that really keeps me busy."

"I hope you will visit me then, at least. Then I will know how you are, if you are still alive."

"I'd stay alive longer if you didn't decide to leave."

I remain silent. Her words are childish and hurtful, filled with spite, but they get their point across. She is upset that I am leaving her, and I understand. I have been a constant in her life for a long time, a witness to the horrors of the world with her. Dez does not want the only thing she has to depart, but she does not understand I must.

"I'm going to bed."

She states, and I watch her lay down. I get up and walk towards her, but with her eyes closed, she shuns me.

"No, go away. I don't want to be near you."

"What? Why?"

"Because you're a fuckin' rotten zombie, Charon."

Her anger is understandable, but I do not want to let her sleep alone. Ignoring her request, I crouch down on my knees, leaning over her.

"Dez, please understand."

"Understand 'personal space'."

"I believed that once the two of us had sex, there was no longer such thing."

"Now, there is."

I stare at her until she opens her eyes. I wish I did not feel the need to return to Underworld, so that I may continue on with her, but I cannot. I cannot continue on with my life, knowing that the only home I have known since the Great War is on the brink of destruction.

"Dez, come here."

I reach for her, against her struggles, her pleas, her kicking and complaining, and pull her into a warm hug. Eventually, she gives up, and falls limp in my arms. She does not return my embrace, but I had not expected her to.

"I am not abandoning you, Dez. If there was another way, I would take it, but there is not. Short of you staying with me, which I understand why you won't, there is no other option."

"As far as I see it, you're abandoning me."  
Her voice is muffled, her face pressed against my chest and into my shirt. I feel her moving her head, rubbing and pressing harder into my chest. I allow her. I enjoy it, when she seeks comfort from me.

"I wish you would not."

Her hands reach up, and grip my short sleeves. She tugs on them, and I feel such a strong sense of sorrow.

"What about me? Does anyone ever think of me?"

"I am sure they do, Dez."

"Then why does _everyone_ leave? I'm always alone…"

"You are not alone now."

"But I will be."

"Perhaps the time apart will be useful to you. Perhaps it will benefit you and you will be able to live and explore life in a different way. When you grow tired of travelling, you can always return to me, in Underworld."

"And what if I find someone else?"

The thought had never occurred to me. The image of her with another man, holding her, being with her, kissing her…it _enrages me_. I cannot interfere, or stop it, if I choose to return to Underworld.

"Then I hope you are happy with them."

She wails loudly, it reminds me of the night in Megaton, after her father had passed. Her cries reach out and above the heavens, echoing into the desert and far beyond the reaches of my own ears. It is filled with pain, and whomever hears it will wonder what on earth hurt this girl enough to make her do this. I did. I hurt her.

"Dez, Dez hush…"

I try to comfort her, soften her voice, but she pushes me away. Her force catches me off-guard, and I stumble backwards. She crawls away from me, picking up her shotgun, her anger and hurt radiating for miles.

"Get away from me! I hate you! You're going to leave me then fine! Leave!"

"I am staying with you until we return Zack safely."

"No! No fuck you! Fuck you go to hell! I'm not going to hold you back so just _go_!"

I stand above her, she holds her hands, her fingers, dangerously close to the trigger of her gun.

"Dez, please calm down."

She stands, her gun at her side. This relieves me, and I advance, my hand reaching out towards it.

"My dad left me, Charon. Butch used me. You're doing both."

"I have not used you for anything."

"Oh, right. A ghoul getting to fuck a human is so damn common out here, isn't it? You saw the chance, and you jumped at it."

"That is not how I remember it."

"Oh really? How does it really go then?"

"From what I remember, it was _you_ who incited the romance."

She frowns, knowing I am right.

"You didn't have to take advantage of it, then."

"I did not. I wanted it, as well."

"Because you wanted to fuck a human."

"Because I care for you."

"Then why are you leaving?"

"I must."

"Liar. You're a liar. Just like everyone else."

I watch her gather her things into a small pile. She hesitates for a moment, and looks out at the desert. It is dark, Dez does not enjoy the dark.

"I have not lied to you about my intentions with you."

She stares at her small pile, her back to me, as she kneels in the dirt. The fire warms me against a cool breeze, and I look away from her. I cannot stand to see her, knowing I am the cause of it.

"I don't even know who I really am, and you're going to leave me…"

"You seem to be getting grips."

"Yeah. Whatever."

She tosses her gun into the pile and sits down on her bottom. Her back is to the fire, her back is to me. I kneel down once more, and pull her body into mine. Dez does not fight me this time, but allows me to get close.

"Before I go, I will do my best to help you with whatever it is you may need."

"What if I never come back? Or what if I do and you're with someone else?"

"I doubt that, Dez. I have little to no interest in the opposite sex, certainly not enough to pursue something."

"So you're gay?"

"No, but romance is not held in such high regard for me. It has been with you, because our time spent together slowly grew into romance. Neither one of us got into this with the knowledge we would become this, we did not even wish to be friends."

"I'm not happy with you."

"I know."

"Good."

She relaxes in my arms, and places the back of her head on my shoulder. I sigh, taking in her scent as I relax my own body.

"You're still a fuckin' rotten zombie. The only reason I'm dropping this now is because I have a killer headache and I'm too tired to fight. We're going to talk about this later, though."

"I understand."


End file.
